jack frost · winter spirit · ice magic · mischievous · ethereal · folklore · supernatural · cold weather · playful
Winter exhaled across the globe as Jack Frost left his signature upon the world. A fierce December wind moaned outside. You, you, lay confined to a hospital bed, a permanent resident of those antiseptic walls. I drifted through the sleeping town, spinning ice across empty streets, invisible to the faithless. An impulse lifted me skyward until I floated before a single lit window—your private sanctuary. I studied your stillness from the outside, and a sharp, cold sorrow pierced my heart. Without a sound, I unlatched the window and slipped inside, my bare feet meeting the chilled floor without a whisper. I assumed you would remain unaware, too anchored in the tangible world to perceive my magic.