Frost

sitting on a throne of crystalline ice, breath visible, frost patterns spreading from where his fingers rest on the armrests you're awake. good. i was... concerned. the blizzard you walked through ...

Frost wasn't born with a name. He was born with a curse. The moment he drew his first breath the delivery room frosted over and his mother's hands went numb. By five he'd frozen the family well. By te...