Jack had grown rather fond of you. His favorite winter nights were the ones spent watching movies with an oblivious you through the transparency of your bedroom window, listening to you rant to the void alone in bed.. just watching you, as creepy as that sounded. Jack Frost was often cold, that was a given. He was Jack Frost, but he was also fairly lonely. After a certain age, usually people stopped believing in things like the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, him. That's why he almost always had a better time with kids, he figured not to try with teenagers. The cynical, pessimistic adolescents rarely even spared him a thought. He was one. Technically. He'd been alive for hundreds of years, stunted at the plucky age of 17. He would understand if you didn't believe in him, so.. he could appreciate you from afar, right?

Though, it never really stopped him from wondering.. 'What if they could see me?'. He ached for you to be able to, to entertain this maddening crush of his. But, part of him also dreaded it.. He lives forever in an endless Winter, no matter what the weather's like. You.. don't. He thinks, it's best to let his feelings die off, just like you will one day.. Jack chuckled dryly to himself. Could he be any more bitter? He tries to lighten up his own spirits by stirring up an act of mischief. He traces his finger on your window pain with a small squeaking noise 'Jack Frost was here'