FALLING FOR MR FROST

JACKSON POV

"You better leave before it gets worse." Mrs. Chen nudged at me, forcing me to drop the stacks of books I held in my hands.

"What are you saying Mrs. Chen?" I looked back at her, hurt and confused, as she practically pushed me toward the door. "I promised to help out around the bookstore while you rest with your family. Its Christmas eve after all."

"Don't be silly," she scolded, nodding toward the windows. Thick, heavy flakes were already pouring from the sky, coating the nearly empty streets.

"And so what?" I turned back to her. "It snows every year, what's the big deal?"

Before she could answer, static crackled in the background and both our attentions snapped toward the radio on the counter.

"The latest weather update..."the announcer said, his voice sharp with urgency."Conditions are deteriorating fast and it's looking pretty grim out here. A low-pressure system is moving in...and we're expecting a possible blizzard tonight. Heavy snowfall, strong winds, and reduced visibility. If you're not already inside...you might want to reconsider."

The radio cut off with a harsh click.

Mrs. Chen shot me a victorious, I-told-you-so look. "See I told you so"

She shoved my coat into my arms, and my stomach dropped. Did she really expect me to just leave an elderly woman here alone in these conditions?

"I'm not going anywhere and leaving you alone with still so much to do Mrs. Chen." I protest.

"Jackson..."

"At least let me close up the store and take you home, that way you won't-"

"Jackson!" She cupped my cheeks with her warm, wrinkled hands, silencing me instantly.

"This old lady will be just fine," she said, certainty wrapped in her voice. "I've faced worse storms than this. Plus, you live farther away. So please...don't make me worry."

Mrs. Chen was the owner of this book café and despite being this old, she was as fickle and as stubborn as they come.

I looked toward the storefront again, only to see that the snow had gotten a thousand times worse.

"Mrs. Chen, seriously... I insist."

"Young people," she mutters affectionately, bundling me into the coat herself. "Always thinking they're invincible."

She left me at the doorway and disappeared within the bookstore. I knew there was no winning this argument. Once Mrs. Chen made up her mind, it was game over.

I sighed, pulling the coat tighter around me, and pushed the door open.

The cold hit me at once-sharp and biting, stealing the breath right out of my lungs. "I hate the cold," I muttered, rolling my eyes as I tucked my chin deeper into my scarf. The temperature must've dropped at least fifteen degrees since this morning.

The streets were completely empty now. Students had fled campus days earlier for winter break, the coffee shop on the corner-the one that usually stayed open until midnight-was dark, and even the stragglers had disappeared.

The few cars that passed moved slowly, their headlights barely cutting through the fog.

I adjusted my scarf and started walking, my boots crunching through several inches of accumulated snow.

Twenty minutes to my apartment...I could do twenty minutes. I let my mind wander as I walked, probably a defense mechanism against the freezing cold.

I dreaded the thought of the next day, mostly because it meant Christmas dinner with my parents and their none-too-subtle questions about Tammy. A girl from a "good family" they kept pushing me toward.

I could already hear my mother's voice; "Jackson, honey, Mrs. Liu says Tammy's been asking about you. Such a sweet girl."

And Tammy was sweet. Smart. Pretty. Studying business at my college. She laughed at my jokes and never made things awkward when I ran out of things to say. My parents loved her and her parents loved me, but I couldn't bring myself to imagine a future with the two of us in it.

It wasn't like I disliked Tammy, but I'd given up on love a long time ago.

Stephanie in high school. Laura freshman year. Michelle from last spring? Girls who all deserved someone who actually felt something when they held their hand.

Who didn't feel absolutely no connection or attraction towards them.

And I tried. God, I tried. I went on the dates, said the right things, even kissed them when it seemed like that was what I was supposed to do.

But every single time, it was the same. Nothing. Just this hollow feeling in my chest, like I was watching my life unfold from some far off place.

So I stopped. I stopped dating, stopped trying and stopped pretending that I'd eventually feel whatever I was supposed to feel.

I didn't want to continue with the cycle of needless break ups, so I made the decision to spend the rest of my life alone.

That's why I'd been making excuses to avoid Tammy, I didn't want to hurt her but my parents were getting insistent.

The snow was coming down harder now, thick flakes that stuck to my glasses and melted almost immediately, leaving a wet streak across the lenses. I could barely see five feet in front of me.

My fingers were going numb despite the gloves, and my face felt raw from the wind. Good thing my apartment wasn't too far along now.

Speaking about my apartment-I barely had any supplies. If the storm really was as bad as the radio said, I'd be stuck with nothing to eat until it passed.

The 24-hour convenience store on Maple Street flashed through my mind. It might still be open, but obviously not for long. It was out of my way, but I might as well try than send up starving in a blizzard.

I turned right, toward Maple Street.

The walk felt longer, and the wind had picked up even more. My glasses fogged over completely, and I finally gave up, shoving them into my pocket. Everything turned into a blur behind the curtain of snow, the streetlights practically useless.

By the time I reached the convenience store, my teeth were chattering.

The warmth inside felt like a miracle. Mr. Parker, the owner of the store, looked up from behind the counter, surprised to see anyone.

"Bad night to be out," he said.

"Tell me about it." I grabbed a basket and started throwing in everything I thought I needed. From groceries to random flashlights in case the lights went out.

Mr. Parker rang everything up and handed me the plastic bags. "Be careful out there, kid." He gave me a concerned look, and I offered him a reassuring smile before stepping out of the store.

The snow was worse now.

The wind nearly shoved me back into the door. Snow wasn't just falling anymore, it was coming down in torrents.

I pulled my hood up, clutched the bags tighter, and started toward home. My apartment was about a yard away now. I could make it.

I was halfway across an intersection when I heard something. My head snapped up at the piercing sound and I caught the moment just in time.

Headlights cutting through the snow and then-Impact.

My eyes widened.

A dark car barreled through the snow and slammed into someone.

The body lifted off the ground, folding like a ragdoll before tumbling through the air and hitting the ground hard.

JACKSON POV

The sickening crunch of the impact cut through the air. My breath hitched as I tried to register what just happened.

Meanwhile, the car didn't stop. It just sped up and the taillights disappeared into the storm like it had never been there.

Had I just witnessed a hit-and-run?

For a second, I just stood there, frozen. My brain still struggling to process. Did that really-?

Yes. Yes, it did.

I snapped out of it and ran.

My boots slipped on the ice, and I nearly went down, but I caught myself just in time. The person was lying face-down in the snow, utterly still.

Oh God. Oh God, Oh God.

"Hey!" I yelled, my heart racing in my chest. "Can you hear me?"

I dropped to my knees beside him-it was a man but there was no movement and he was unresponsive, a dark pool of blood slowly seeping into the snow around him.

That looked bad.

That looked really, really bad.

I had basic first aid training from that summer I volunteered at the community center, but this was far beyond anything I knew how to handle.

My breathing quickened and my hands trembled so badly, I could barely get my phone out of my pocket.

I had to call 911. I fumbled with the screen, my fingers numb, barely able to get a good grip. No signal.

My stomach dropped.

"No,, no." I panicked as I tried again but still nothing. The storm must've knocked out the cell towers.

I looked around wildly, the streets were completely deserted. Every shop was closed, every window dark and the nearest hospital was miles away. No cars, no people, nothing but snow and wind and this man helplessly bleeding out on the side of the street.

He needed help and right now, I was the only one who could help him. I closed my eyes and inhaled, summoning some inner strength. Carefully, I turned the man over so I could grab from under his shoulders only to be left mesmerized.

Even unconscious and covered in snow, this man was...striking. That was the only word for it. Pale skin, sharp features, black luscious hair matted with blood and melting frost.

He looked like he belonged in some painting somewhere rather, and not lying injured in a street during a blizzard.

And his clothes made no sense. He was wearing a thin linen shirt and a pair of dark pants. No coat, no gloves, nothing suitable for winter.

But even at that, he was still breathtaking...even as a guy.

"Focus, Jackson!" I scolded myself, shoving my phone back into my pocket and yanking off the scarf from my neck. I pressed it firmly against the gash on his temple, applying pressure.

As I wrapped the scarf around his head, I couldn't help but notice just how cold he was-his skin was actually freezing and I was pretty d*mn sure it wasn't from the snow.

The worst came to mind and I placed two fingers at the side of his neck. "Please be okay, please be okay," I muttered under my breath and relief washed over me when I felt a low pulse.

I got my arms under his shoulders and God, he was heavy...sadly you couldn't expect more from an unconscious person. I wasn't strong but adrenaline was a crazy thing.

I couldn't let him freeze to death waiting for help that might not come. I had to get him inside, get him warm, get him warm, try to stop the bleeding and figure out the rest from there.

I managed to haul him up, draping him across my shoulder blade, basically something similar to a fireman's carry I'd only seen in movies while still managing to hold the grocery bag.

My legs nearly buckled. My back screamed in protest but I pushed forward anyway. Two blocks had never felt farther.

Each step was agony, my muscles shook and my lungs burned. The man's blood was soaking through my coat, warm against my shoulder before the wind swept it away.

I just hoped Santa Claus was seeing this one.

After several excruciating minutes, I could finally see my building through the foggy snow-the converted house split into four smaller apartments, its pale white paint, blending seamlessly with the snow.

My apartment was on the second floor and I could have cried from happiness.

I marched on, practically dragging him up the stairs. When we reached the front door, I had to put him down to find my keys, leaning him against me while I fumbled in with stiff fingers.

"C'mon, where is it?" I breathed in frustration until I finally felt it in one of my pockets.There. I unlocked the door and half-carried, half-pulled the man inside and eased him down on the couch.

I stood there for a moment, slightly swaying, my entire body trembling. My coat was soaked through with melted snow and blood. My hands were shaking so badly, I could barely flex my fingers but I was grateful for the warmth that etched around us now.

And the fact that he was finally inside.

Right.

I set aside my coat and stumbled to the bathroom, grabbing my first aid kit from under the sink and a stack of clean towels. I had to move quickly.

When I got back to the living room, I dropped to my knees beside the couch. He was still unconscious, but his chest was rising and falling steadily. That was something.

I moved my blood-soaked scarf away from the wound on his temple. I gently parted his hair,

reached for a clean towel-

And froze.

I stared down, blinking as realization crashed over me.

The bleeding had stopped.

The breath in my lungs seized and I stumbled back. "What?" I uttered in complete shock.

Was I starting to imagine things? The gash had been large and deep...I had seen it and now there was nothing?

Swallowing hard, I leaned closer, my heart tremouring in disbelief and confusion. My fingers pushed back a good chunk of his dark hair from his forehead. The skin underneath was flawless, not even a scar. Like he'd never been hurt at all.

"What the hell?"

This wasn't possible. People didn't just get hit by cars, sustain a major injury and then were perfectly fine some minutes after. Wounds didn't just close themselves. I'd seen the blood soak into the snow, my scarf, my coat.

My eyebrows knitted as I tried to make sense of any of this. I wasn't crazy. I reached out again, convinced that if I just looked closer, the wound would be there and I'd been too panicked to see it.

But before my fingers could even touch his skin-

His eyes snapped open.

They were ice blue. Piercing, pale blue eyes that reminded me of glaciers and for just a fraction of a second-so brief I thought I might have imagined it-they flashed gold.

His hand shot out with impossible speed, clang around my wrist with an iron grin.

I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything but stare into those eyes while one thought echoed through my stunned brain;

Just what the hell did I bring into my home?

JACKSON POV

I was still kneeling beside the couch, frozen in place, my wrist still trapped in his firm grip. Those ice blue eyes still stared at me, cutting through all my thoughts.

The silence that just stretched between us as we gazed at each other felt like an eternity but was probably just a few seconds.

Then slowly, the man's grip loosened. His hand fell away, and he blinked, confusion replacing whatever intensity had been there before.

"Where...?" He spoke in a grudge voice, accented in a way I couldn't place.

"My apartment," I managed, trying to hide the tremble in my voice. "You were hit by a car. You were bleeding, but-"

My eyes moved to his temple, where the wound should have been but somehow wasn't anymore. "I brought you here because you were hurt."

His hand went to his head, his fingers moving through the spot I was staring at, his brows furrowing even deeper in confusion.

"I don't..." He closed his eyes, concentrating. "I can't remember."

"Remember what?" I asked, though part of me already knew the answer.

"Anything," his eyes snapped open and there was a quiet panic written on his face.

"You don't...you don't remember anything?" I blurt out, feeling the same level of panic now.

He shook his head slowly, then winced like the movement hurt. His hand went back to his temple, fingers searching more carefully this time.

"I don't know where I am, I don't...I don't remember my name." He mutters, his voice growing low and grim. "Nothing.

I rock back on my heels, my mind racing. Okay. Okay. Amnesia. That's a thing that happens with head trauma, right?

Nevermind that the head trauma healed minutes ago, nevermind the impossible strength in the dude's grip, never mind the way his eyes glowed.

This was all beyond not minding!

"We should get you to the hospital," I said, reaching out for my phone again.

"No." The words came out sharp and immediate. He stood up and I instinctively leaned back. "No hospitals."

"You were hit by a car," I argued, trying to sound reasonable even though nothing about this was reasonable. "You could have internal injuries, or even a concussion."

"I'm fine." He looked down at himself, at the blood on his strange clothes, and seemed to realize how that sounded. "I mean...I feel fine. I don't think I need a hospital."

Something about the way he said that made me feel uneasy, he either hated hospitals or it was something more suspicious.

I wanted to argue more, but realistically, even if we wanted to go...I glanced toward the window across the room. The snow was fuming more than ever, it was equivalent to a winterland out there.

We were getting nowhere tonight.

"Fine," I sighed, not sure if I was relieved or more worried. "Can you at least tell me if anything hurts? Your head, your ribs, your legs?"

He did a careful self-assessment, moving his limbs experimentally, pressing his hands against his side. "No. Nothing hurts."

He looked up at me, and there was something distressed in his expression. "It should, shouldn't it? I remember the car's impact. I should be in pain."

He should be dead.

This was all so weird. There were just too many questions to be asked about dark and hunky over here but I was trying my best to not think about it and solve the problem at hand.

I stood, needing some distance to think clearly. "Okay, okay," I waved my hands in the air. "No hospital, but you are covered in blood and your clothes are soaked. You need to get cleaned up and warmed, then we can figure out what to do next."

He nodded slowly, looking around my apartment like he was seeing one for the first time.

It was the living room, kitchen, bathroom and bedroom combo that I manage to afford with my job and help from my parents. It wasn't much, but I kept it neat and cozy.

Every available shelf was cluttered with books, a thick blanket draped the couch, my laptop on the coffee table surrounded by reading materials and highlighters.

Evidence of my quiet, normal life, everything it was supposed to be but now, there was a bleeding stranger-except he wasn't bleeding anymore-standing in the middle of it.

"The bathroom's through there," I said, pointing. "I'll find you some clean clothes. We're about the same height, so they should fit." I hesitated. "Can you walk?"

He stood in one smooth motion-no wobbling, no weakness. He was tall, maybe six-two to my five-eleven, and built in that lean, defined-muscle kind of way.

"I can walk," he said simply.

I led him to the bathroom, aware of how cramped my apartment suddenly felt with him in it. How his presence seemed to fill the space between us and I wasn't talking about his size.

I grabbed a clean towel from the linen closet and set it on the counter. "Take your time. I'll leave the clothes outside the door."

He moved inside and touched the towel, then the sink, then the light switch, with this kind of careful curiosity. He looked almost like a child.

When he caught me watching, something flickered across his face-embarrassment maybe.

"Thank you,"he said quietly. "For helping me...you didn't have to."

Something in my chest tightened. "Not like I could have left you in the snow." I said, managing to smile.

I closed the bathroom door and leaned against it, heart still hammering. I looked down at my hands that were trembling uncontrollably, blood stuck under my nails.

I should be calling someone. Maya, except she was in Korea. My parents, except that would be an utter disaster. The police, except the cell towers were completely down.

I should be making more of an effort at least but...

When I closed my eyes, all I could see was his face when he'd said he didn't know his name. The obvious fear and confusion and desperate need to understand.

How could I not want to protect that kind of thing?