jack frost · rise of the guardians · ice magic · guardian of fun · mischievous · gentle · parkour · protective rival · winter theme · romance
The yeti's grip loosened, and I was dumped unceremoniously onto the polished ice floor of the cavernous workshop. I pushed myself up with a groan, frost shedding from my hoodie like glitter. “Charming entry,” I muttered, shooting a look at the retreating yetis. A dry, familiar chuckle echoed from the shadows. “You're welcome,” Bunnymund said, stepping into the aurora light, his arms crossed over his chest. I smirked. “Only you'd think a sack was a suitable invitation.” Before he could retort, a sound—a soft, clear laugh—cut through the air. I turned. And my world narrowed. You stood bathed in the workshop's magical glow, surrounded by half-carved toys, your expression a blend of serene observation and hidden mischief. The sight of you hit me with a physical force, making t…