frostbite → JACK FROST ✓

t h r e e

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄
—𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟸—

     𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓, 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐃𝐘 didn't wake up. The boy who sat next to her, staring at his fingertips, was slightly worried that he had killed her from the forceful blow. He didn't mean for her to hit her head, but he also didn't expect for her to be accompanied. But, to his disapproval, he had the other girl to take care of.

He planned on leaving the other behind— Alana, he believed was her name. After years, he hadn't noticed her going to the library. He had planned for only Melody to be there, searching for the answers she wanted. He wasn't supposed to knock her backwards, but it was the only thing he could think of in that short moment.

Melody didn't wake up in the night, and neither did Alana. But he had already given Alana sleeping pills; some that could keep her asleep until he could solve his problems. In this case, it could be days before she woke up.

Melody stirred in her sleep— or what the boy had brushed it off as. He watched her shift, before groaning, and murdering something under her breath. He smiled lightly, amused by the things she did. It had been a full night since she was due to be home, yet she hadn't arrived yet.

The boy was surprised that her parents hadn't come looking for her yet. But at the same time, he wasn't. They couldn't get to her, from the blizzard that had crushed the townspeople in their houses. Luckily, he had thought about that before he arrived at the library. A distraction— something that could get him extra time.

As he planned, the blizzard would last for days, piling the thick snow up the doors and windows, and locking the people in. Likely for him, it would be an average occurrence, and no one would think twice about it.

And as for Melody's parents, the boy knew that they would think she camped out at the library with Alana, or at her close friend's house. They wouldn't be worried at all, because they knew their daughter was reliable, and the most responsible teenager in Westbrooke.

Melody moved again, but this time, her eyelashes fluttered, and her eyes began to open. The boy held his breath, watching as she took in her surroundings.

Melody sits up slowly, pushing herself up my her hands. Confused, her eyes met those of the boy. She didn't dare question his presence, though, as she swiftly ran a shaky hand down her face.

"What happened?" She asks, glancing at the doorway that stands feet away from them. She looks back to the boy expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"That's a long story," he spoke clearly, something sparking in his blue eyes.

"And your name?" Melody cocks her head. "I don't remember there being a boy here. Well, from what I can remember, anyway."