♪ On the eleventh day of Christmas, Mr Jack Frost gave to me,
- Eleven giant sorrys
- Ten billion snowflakes
- Nine naughty curses
- Eight somewhat truths
- Seven lovely inches
- Six sexy sounds
- Five crazy words
- Four dirty smirks
- Three subtle hints
- Two tiny smiles,
- And a big shocker to my panties... ♪

•

"Who are those people?" Jack nodded towards an old photograph on her mantlepiece as he pulled on his pants. They had fallen asleep on the couch after burning a few of the many calories they had consumed.

Summer looked towards the framed picture of her and her parents, Christmas morning six years ago. The picture was taken in front of that same fireplace where they all had worn their matching sweaters. It had been the last full Christmas they had enjoyed together before her parents' death the next year. The day of Christmas Eve.

"My parents," Summer replied, feeling her throat close up at the mention. Even after so long, it was still a touchy subject to her. "They died in a car accident in the winter. Skidding on the ice in a snowstorm."

The constant Christmas lights in Jack's eyes suddenly died out. "They... did?"

She nodded. "That's the truth behind why I hate the snow. It's a death trap, it kills people every year. If it wasn't for that snowstorm, my parents would still have been alive today."

Jack had gone completely mute. Silently pulling on his t-shirt, he kept his eyes on the hardwood floor. "Oh."

"It's horrible," She confessed, looking down as well. "I'm probably the only person alive who wouldn't mind global warming taking out the snow. Or at least just wishing that the snow would one day stop falling, that—no offense to your name—one day, Jack Frost would stop coming."

Jack looked up reservedly, having finished putting on his clothes. "Right. Well, I suppose... we are all entitled to an opinion on things."

"I know you love winter and the snow," Summer said, suddenly feeling bad for bashing so hard on it. "I'm sorry. I got a bit carried away."

Jack just nodded and picked up his cane from the floor where he left it last night. "It's fine, but actually seems like the snow has quieted down some, so I should probably get going."

She knew she had upset him now. Last night he had talked about staying through the next day as well since it was Sunday, meaning no work. She had thought it an appealing idea, but now he wanted to leave all of a sudden. "I'm really sorry, Jack. I didn't think before speaking, I didn't consider that—"

"It's fine," He repeated, more persistently, giving her a smile that looked greatly forced. "But I should go anyway. I'll see you around, Summer."

Giving her a little nod, he walked up to her door, not even giving her a kiss or at least a hug for a goodbye before stepping out, beginning to plow his way through the deep snow. Summer felt a cold sensation lodge in her heart as she watched him go, venturing into the blistering cold, just to get away from her.

This was why she didn't open up. She bore such hatred to winter and the loss it had caused her, that anyone would be scared off by how much she truly had bottled up inside.

This had been a bad idea. The whole Jack-thing. She felt the unmistakable pang of hurt in her chest and the burning sensation of tears pressing at the corners of her eyes. She should never have done this.

"Stupid," She whispered to herself and walked upstairs to her bed to settle in for a day in bed.

~~~

At 3pm in the afternoon, Summer was disturbed in the middle of one of her book by a loud banging on her front door.

"Summer!" She heard Jack's voice call.

Blinking shocked, she closed her book, but hesitated to climb out of bed. Should she just pretend not to have heard him?

"Summer, please, I'm sorry!"

The knocking continued. Ah, it was foolish to pretend she couldn't hear him. She was pretty sure the neighbors two houses over could hear him. She saw no point in refusing to go down and open the door for him to give him a chance to explain himself. He would just go on until she finally caved.

As she walked downstairs and swung the door open, she saw him standing there in the middle of her... shoveled garden? Had he shoveled the snow from her entire driveway? "Jack."

"I'm sorry," He instantly said, taking a step over the threshold to her. She took a little step back and looked up at him. He paused. "I was the one who asked you about your past and I already knew you hated winter from the first day we met. I shouldn't have run off like that. Not when the subject was so personal to you. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried."

Summer's face softened and she allowed him to step inside, the door still standing wide open, sending in cascades of cold air. "Jack, this whole thing between us... it was never meant to get personal. We were just supposed to have fun, to keep each other warm."

"I still want to," He said, taking a trying step forward again. This time she didn't step back. "I won't pry again, I understand now why you... hate winter. But please don't hate me. I truly am sorry for what I did, please forgive me."

Summer shook her head. "It's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. Not really, it was me."

"No," He said, now stepping in and closing the door behind him, never letting his gaze leave her. He threw his cane carelessly on the floor as if repelled by it, letting it fall with a clatter. "I did do something wrong and it hurt you badly. It was my fault, I should never have... please, I'm just so sorry, Summer."

Was she crying? Oh, how foolish of her. She shouldn't be crying now, but Jack's hoarse pleading tore through her like a dagger. He really meant every word. She felt cold for some reason. "J-Jack..."

He reached forward and cupped her face with his cold hands. Instantly, heat coursed through her body like a warm tidal wave. Shocked that his simple touch could do that, she blinked up and looked him in the eyes as he leaned down to her, his lips hovering above hers. "Let me keep you warm, Summer. Please, let me."

His lips brushed against hers, and just like that, she melted. Everything but him vanished and she didn't even sense as they went upstairs to her bedroom, nor that they helped each other rid themselves of their clothes.

Only when he pushed inside her and begun making slow, sweet love to her, did she finally awaken and feel revived. She moaned out a breath and arched her head back into the pillows when he bottomed out deep inside her.

He kept chanting 'sorry' while kissing her up her throat, down her cleavage. He whispered sweet nothings, then apologized again and again until the two things became one.

Summer climaxed hard and soon felt him follow her, squeezing his eyes shut as he did, pumping the last few times. He held her tightly throughout their ōrgasms, even after they both faded.

"I promise I will keep you warm this winter," Jack whispered in her ear as she laid pressed up against his body afterwards, receiving his said warmth. "I promise you won't feel any hurt this Christmas."

• • •

I am officially a sick man.
- Not by soul this time (though we all know I am) but by health. I've caught myself the sniffles. Way to go, Oli.
Happy third advent, by the way.