𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
—𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟹—
𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 the next morning when Melody awoke, her eyes fluttering as a light tap can be heard from the window. The brunette lets out a small groan before sitting up, stretching her arms as she yawns. But as the taps continue, she slowly sinks down, her eyes finding the curtains that covered the closed glass. Now that the girl was fully awake, she wasn't about to get up and see what was trying to get her attention or to get inside.
Melody yanks the comforter up to her chin, her wide eyes finding Frost sleeping heavily on his bed. She hesitates for a moment, before speaking to him. "Frost!" She says in a harsh whisper. "Frost, get up! There's something at the window!"
The white-haired boy twitches his nose, turning over and pulling his pillow over his head at Melody's futile attempts to wake him. But once she started, he knew she wasn't about to stop. "What the hell do you want, Mel?"
"Something is trying to get inside," she frets, her eyebrows furrowed as the tapping continues. "See? There it is again!" The girl flinches as the small sound, a squeak escaping her lips as she yanks the comforter up further. "Frost, go do something! Get the broom and get it away!"
Frost didn't question her persistence of a broom, getting out of bed and rolling his eyes at her fear. Upon parting the curtains, he finds a familiar bird perched on the window sill. Jude cocks his head at Frost, as if to ask what he was waiting on. The boy simply chuckles, propping up the glass to allow Jude inside, before closing and locking it back again. "It was just Jude, Melody. You can come out of hiding now."
Melody hesitantly pulls her head from the blanket, peeking out enough to see that it was, in fact, Jude that was making the noise. She releases a sigh of relief, dropping the comforter and sitting up on her bed once again. "Oh, well . . . "
The white bird chirps at her, planting himself on the bed in front of her. "So you like to rise early, huh? I guess that gives us more time to go find Frost's mother," Melody chuckles, running her fingers along the back of Jude's neck.
"So you're still going for that?" Frost huffs, pulling on his hoodie. "Because I don't agree with your decision. Like I said before— we're already tight on time, we can't drag our feet with things that don't matter."
"I'm not getting anything out of helping you, other than the pleasure of doing it," Melody states firmly, quickly yanking her socks and shoes on, "just let me do this because I want to, okay? The people of Westbrooke will be okay. Most of them have emergency food and supplies in their basements, so they will survive another few hours. The least you can do is spare me a few minutes to look over that book."
"You didn't have to help me," Frost says lowly. "I gave you the chance to go back, Mel, so I don't owe you anything."
"I'm not saying you owe me something," she breathes out, moving onto her feet. "I'll go alone if I have to, and meet you back at the mountain soon. But if you need me, you know where to find me."
"You don't even know where my mother's house is," he stresses, running his fingers through his hair in aggravation. "How do you expect to find it by yourself?"
"I'll find it eventually," the brunette states, already opening the door and zipping her coat. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a house to find and a book to read."
Frost stares at her retreating figure, shaking his head with an exhausted sigh. The boy looks to Jude, nodding towards the window. "I'll meet you outside, buddy. It looks like we won't be home for another couple of hours."
---
"Why is it that you have to go off on your own and try to be independent constantly?" Frost asks the girl as they walk alongside each other on the path back to Westbrooke. "You're a hesitant person, and want nothing more than to be around people. To be accepted. So why do you venture off?"
"I stray when others stay, and that's what sets me apart from everyone else in our town. It's a small place with small families, and everyone there is the same. For some reason, we've grown accustomed to the normalcy of things and stick with it. But why? I'm not accepted there because I'm different," the girl pauses before going on, "and the same goes for you."
"They're scared of the things they don't understand, and I get that." Frost shrugs, his eyes cast into the distance. "Why do you think I ran? Mother set me apart from the other children to keep me safe."
"She shouldn't have had to," Melody laughs incredulously, her boots crunching against the snow that was beginning to get deeper. "Accepting everyone is a vital part of living in a small town, or any town for that matter. Where else is there to do? To turn on your neighbor because you don't like a part of their personality."
"You could read a book every once in a while, and they'll rip you out of their lives like a weed in a flower garden," she goes on, her voice growing soft, almost fading to a whisper. "I would know. I have one friend, and I don't even get to see him that often."
"Who cares what they think?" Frost laughs, no humor laced within his voice. "You don't have to listen to them anymore, you know."
"I'll have to live in that town for the rest of my life," she wearily shakes her head, giving him a weak smile. "You could call it an occult if you wanted to. Once you're in, you're expected to stay. It's been my home, and it's where my heart lies."
"My heart lied where I could never be again," he says after a moment of silence. "But somehow . . . through the times, it came back to me. And it's somewhere else. With someone. But after all this is over, I'll never see her again."
"Your mother?" Melody questions, the sympathy obvious in her tone. "I'm so sorry, Frost, I know it must be hard to‒"
"It's not my mother," he says plainly, stopping to sink down next to a tree. "If she cared about me, she would've come looking after I left."
Melody stopped walking, too. She turned to look at the boy that was perched on the ground, and to Jude, who rested peacefully on his right shoulder. "Where is your heart, Frost?"
"I've known you for two days." Frost says, ignoring her previous comments. "And in those two days, we've had quite a few arguments, and you've grown to be stubborn in a way that you weren't before. For some reason, you changed after you met me."
The brunette doesn't dare interject, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as she waits for him to continue. She wouldn't open her mouth, she wouldn't move from the spot when her feet were firmly planted. She wouldn't even acknowledge the heavy snowfall that had began, sending flakes of white fluff into her hair, and catching in her eyelashes.
"And you've changed me, whether you realize it or not. I hadn't talked to someone in years, then suddenly there was a bright, curious girl following me around and asking me questions that I didn't have an answer for. And then I wasn't alone anymore because I embraced what attention you gave to me. You made me whole again, Mel," he pauses, swallowing hard as his deep blue eyes caught hers. "You gave me a purpose, and a home within the span of forty-eight hours."
Somehow, Melody couldn't quite grasp all of the words escaping his lips. Were they really meant for her, or was this a dream state that she was caught in? The girl wasn't sure, but she listened, nonetheless. Frost stood back up, Jude fleeing from his shoulder and landing on a branch high over their heads.
"For weeks, I watched you in Westbrooke," he takes a step closer to her, both of their eyes captivated by one another. "I watched you sit alone by yourself in the mornings, sitting on your swing with a book always in your hands. And the weekly visits to the library, or your weekend retreat where you and that guy would hide to talk about his obsession with the town and your ranting of the new book you read. Because you intrigued me beyond belief, and I didn't understand why everyone else left you alone and stayed away from you. I didn't know why you were so much like me, but so absolutely different at the same time. I wanted answers."
"Because they don't like how set apart we are from them," her voice is barely audible from the wind bustling through the trees, sending a cold shiver up her spine.
"Because you stand out above the rest," he states without an ounce of hesitance. "You're far more intelligent and beautiful than what you give yourself credit for, Melody. And despite what you always hoped, there was no one in Westbrooke that could understand you. There was no reason to stay, other than the fact that your parents were there. But I . . . " he trails off, moving closer. "I understand you, Melody."
Frost places him hands on each side of her face, the pads of his thumbs caressing her soft skin. Melody's heart thumps against her chest, her breathing heavy as his cold hands reach her. And although his touch is like ice, the blood in her veins in warm. The warmth radiates throughout her body and gives her a fiery sensation that she had never felt before.
Melody lays her hands atop Frost's, leaning into him as his breath fans her face. She knew what was coming, and the anticipation was killing her. The brunette wanted him to say what his heart told him to, and then close the burning distance that lies between them.
"You," he breathes, "are where my heart lies."
And with that single statement, within those few words, Frost had finally succumbed to Melody's wishes and had gently placed his lips on hers.
_______