I had actually had a dream about my fic. It was really weird so it may make an appearance in this story at one point o3o
One another note I decided I want to read The Guardians of Childhood books so I ran out in the snow(Thanks Jack!) to get them from the library. All they had was the one about Sandman which was disappointing because it's the fourth book. I'm just looking at the pictures so I don't get spoilers and damn, Pitch looks awesome!
I think I'm gonna draw him because the movie made him look SOO LAME. It's like the animators just gave up and died when they designed him.
Anyway, thank you for the reviews, favourites, and follows! They really mean a lot to me^^
Step. Step. Step. Turn.
Step. Step. Step. Turn.
Peter paced his room once more before stopping to look out the window. The snow was coming down harder in large chunks. At this rate, it could spell for a snow day and he knew who to thank for that.
No. No he didn't. There was no Jack Frost and he most certainly wasn't go yelling out his window 'Thanks for the Snow Day!' Maybe he'd see a smiley face appear in the frost on the glass or something.
Peter banged his head against the window. No, he would see no such smiley face and certainly not see some guy flying around wearing a blue hoodie. If he did, well, that was just a whole new level of insanity the teen wasn't ready for. Besides, Peter hadn't technically seen anything. All he saw was a white flash in the sky. For all he knew, it could have been a UFO that Cupcake decided to say was Jack…
The teen slumped to the floor. He had to admit, he was sounding ridiculous to even to himself. Besides, who was to say that Jack Frost couldn't exist? What law of the universe stated as there couldn't be a teen that went around whipping up snow for fun? Furthermore, would it really hurt to believe? Sure, Peter might seem weird for chasing after fairy tales being the age he was, but the worst that could happen would be seeming like an idiot. But it would be nice to be able to believe in magic and those flights of fantasy he had left behind in his childhood. Best of all, he could share the experience with those stubborn little nippers.
Peter's cell phone buzzed on the side table next to the bed, prompting him to crawl over and snatch the phone from the surface. He leaned back against the wall and checked the caller, mugging a face of distaste. Peter hit accept anyway, held the phone up to his ear.
'What?'
'That's not a very nice way to answer the phone,' Mom scolded.
'It's called cutting to the chase,' he explained, 'Considering that you're obviously not calling just to check up on me.'
'What makes you say that?' she asked.
Peter's grip tightened on the phone, 'You're calling from the phone in Howl's room.'
She forced a laugh, 'You have that number saved in your phone?'
The teen remained silent, his annoyance practically audible.
'Oh alright, you got me. That doesn't change that I need an answer,' Mom said.
'I gave you answer,' he spat, 'It's just not the one you want.'
'Peter, you need to understand that it's for the better,' Mom said patiently, 'Your being-'
'Selfish? Inconsiderate? Ridiculous? Go ahead and pick a word, I've heard them all before,' Peter gritted his teeth, 'Oh, here's one: murderer. That one should fit you just fine.'
'Peter!' she exclaimed, 'You-'
'You! You're just trying to erase your guilt! You're just trying to destroy the evidence because you don't like be reminded that you screwed up and that you're a bad mother!' he yelled into the phone, 'If it wasn't for you Howl wouldn't have run out into the street and-'
His voice cracked, sobs wracking his chest.
'Peter, listen to me-'
His mother fell silent with the press of the 'end call' button.
Peter wiped his face in his sleeve to remove the traces of sniveling. Taking a long look at the phone, he cast it away under the bed. He took a deep breath and got up from the floor to lean against the dresser the fishbowl was perched.
'Do you think it's possible to burn a phone?' he asked the fish.
Naturally it said nothing in reply.
'How about I dump it in your bowl then,' he laughed, 'If you're going to give me the silent treatment.'
The fish blew bubbles, swimming along the bottom of the bowl.
Peter snorted, 'Oh alright, be that way. Just remember that whenever something very personal happens to you I'm not going to say anything either.'
'Peter?'
The teen whirled to towards the door that was now slightly ajar. Cupcake was poking her head in, watching with a confused expression.
'Hm?' Peter asked casually.
'Uh...' she trailed off, at a loss for where to begin. Her eyebrows turned up in question, 'Why's your face all puffy? Were you crying?'
'Me? Crying?,' Peter reiterated, 'Pft, I'm the epitome of not crying. I haven't cried in ten years.'
'Okay,' Cupcake giggled, 'Well, everyone wanted to know if you were gonna come out and play.'
'I don't play,' Peter scoffed, 'Playing is for little nippers like you. Kids my age hang out.'
Cupcake rocked on her heels, 'So you wanna hang out?'
He grinned, 'Sure.'
…...
'Alright!' Jamie cheered upon seeing the two cousins emerge from the woods and into the snow filled air of the pond clearing, 'We can have so much more fun now 'cause you finally believe!'
'What are you talking about?' Peter asked, pulling his green scarf up to his chin.
Jamie's enthusiasm crumbled. 'But I thought you believed...' he turned to Cupcake, 'Didn't you say he saw Jack?'
'He did!' she confirmed, 'I was-'
The two fell silent as they heard Peter's miserable attempts to hide his snickering.
'It's almost not fun messing with you guys,' he laughed, oblivious to Cupcake's intensifying glare, 'You're so easy to-'
Fwump!
Peter tumbled over into the snow, clumps of the frozen water dotting his face. He jumped to his feet, dusting snowflakes from his hair, 'What was that for?!'
'You shouldn't tease people,' Pippa scolded, tossing a snowball in her hand.
Peter crouched down, starting to pack snow together, 'Why I oughta-'
'Shouldn't we wait for Jack to get here?' Caleb asked.
'He said he'd be back in fifteen minutes and it's been twenty,' Claude complained.
'Maybe he got caught up making a snow storm somewhere?' Monty suggested.
'But he made it snow here so he could play with us,' Pippa reasoned, 'Maybe it's something else.'
'What if there's an emergency meeting at the North Pole?' Jamie offered.
'If that's the case,' Claude said, 'Then that mean there's something bad going so we should do our part and have a snowball fight.'
Monty wrinkled his nose, 'How does that make-'
Thwap!
His glasses flew off his face from the impact of the snow.
'Free for all!' Claude yelled, ducking behind a snowdrift.
On cue, the rest scattered behind various barricades for defense. From his position behind a tree, Peter started to craft his ammo, checking to see if there were any openings for attack. He saw Caleb peek out from behind a bush, only to get whaled on with snowballs before Peter could even aim.
The teen wondered how it was that the nippers were able to unleash a volley so quickly when he felt a chunk of snow hit the top of his head. He looked up to see Cupcake in the tree holding onto a branch. She waved her hand and let go of the branch with a snap, sending a pile of snow on top of him.
Peter clawed his way out the snow, shivering from the ice that had infiltrated the warm confines of his coat. Immediately he was met with snowball bombardment from all directions. The teen backed in the clearing with the arms raised to protect his face. The nippers came from their defensive positions to continued mercilessly pelting Peter with their projectiles.
'What happened to free for all?!' Peter yelled.
'It's almost not fun messing with you!' Pippa cheered.
He continued to back step until one foot submerged into the icy pond water. Peter gasped from the shock of the cold and staggered away from the frigid waters. With that, Peter dove for the snow covered ground and started flinging pathetic excuses for snowballs like mad, regardless of their shoddy quality. Having successfully drove his attackers back a few feet, he quickly formed a sphere to throw. Peter jumped to his feet only to get smacked in the back.
A devious grin stretched across his face. Snowball at the ready, Peter whirled towards the lake, 'Get ready for carnage!'
The snowball fell from his hand and plopped harmlessly onto the ground as Peter stood frozen. He stared out over the pond with wide eyes, unable to believe his eyes.
Floating above the pond, blue hoodie and all, was- There was no way. He couldn't be truly seeing this.
The white haired teen cast a mischievous smile and-
Bwak!
Peter got a face full of the perfect snowball.