Frosted (Frosted #1 | Jackunzel)

{ Chapter Nine }

The lulling sound of singing rang out of the tower's window early the next morning. Jack recognized the voice as Rapunzel's, warm, syrupy, and louder than it had been last night. He pulled himself over the windowsill with a push of the wind and leaned onto the wall, where he waited to be spotted. But after a steady minute of watching the girl dance while she chopped what appeared to be a mix of vegetables, Jack found himself growing impatient. He stepped inside, swinging Twinetender along his side as he walked. After only a few steps, his foot caught on something soft and hard.

A green blob went flying forward. There was a yelp. Jack barely spotted the pan in time to dodge its swing.

"Whoa, there, Goldy!" Jack exclaimed, throwing his palms up in the air. "And here I was walking around thinking we were friends. I'm hurt."

"Oh god!" Rapunzel breathed, dropping the pan back on the burning stove. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was—Pascal!" She sprinted toward her dresser, as if it was more important than the sense she'd almost knocked right out of him.

He pressed a hand flat against his heart, sauntering over to her bed. "Okay, now I'm actually hurt," he whispered, half-jokingly. He leaned Twinetender against the bed post and hopped down onto the mattress. A tiny, purple dress sat just beside him. Jack plucked it up from where it rested, examining the tiny garment. Something about it seemed familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint why exactly that was... Until he lifted it in the air just beside Rapunzel's curled figure.

''I knew it looked familiar!'' Rapunzel spun around, hands shooting behind her back, wearing a normal version of the very dress he held between his fingers. ''What's it for? Ants? No, it's too big for that. Dolls?''

Red creeped across Rapunzel's cheeks as she pitter-patted over to him. "Actually..." she started, leaning forward to pluck the dress out of his grasp. "It's for Pascal."

There was that name again. Jack's interest was successfully peaked. "Who?" He cocked a questioning brow.

Rapunzel brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, rubbing at her wrists. "It's..." Her gaze darted away from him, hesitant. She cleared her throat."He's my friend."

"Your doll friend?"

"Chameleon, actually..."

"A chameleon!'' Jack exclaimed, crossing his legs. "Never seen one of those before! Tell me, where is this Pas-cal?" He made a show of looking around. And he was genuinely curious—he'd seen a lot of reptiles in people's houses, but they usually varied from snakes to geckos. He'd yet to run into anyone keeping a chameleon. "Do they actually change colour depending on what they're standing on?"

But Rapunzel was too busy suppressing a giggle to answer his questioning. In the air, Baby Tooth hovered closer to Rapunzel with her tiny arms crossed, and a shameless grin on her face. Jack only had time to frown at the pair before a disgusting wetness filled his ear. Jack hissed and swiped aimlessly at his head while the girls laughed away in front of him.

Rapunzel rushed toward Jack, fingers grazing his shoulder. A buzz thrummed through him at the touch. When she leaned back, there was a gleeful green blob sitting on her open palm.

"What a way of saying hello," Jack commented, still rubbing at his ear. He tipped his chin to Rapunzel's hand. "Pascal?"

The chameleon tilted its head back to Jack in answer; an approval Jack hadn't realized he'd needed before now.

Rapunzel smiled joyfully, setting Pascal back down on the bed. Finally, she turned back to Jack, "You're back," she said. "I didn't think you would be. Especially not so soon, anyway."

"For a girl who believes, you have such little faith in me, Goldy."

The blush came back to Rapunzel's cheeks. She looked away, still rubbing absentmindedly at her wrists. Jack slid off of the bed, taking his staff up with him. His thoughts wandered over Katherine's visit yesterday, and how hard it had been for him to wait until sunrise before coming back to see Rapunzel. Keep her safe, if you would. In a way, Jack couldn't figure out why Katherine had requested it, and yet he understood. He'd felt it in her thread, and he felt it now as he stood by her. There was something special; something like him, but not quite the same.