A Frosty Tail

by Dawn Sister

  “Fuck,” he gasped trying to place his hands on his head and do—something.

  Cool, soothing fingers gently curled around his. Another cool hand was placed on his forehead, and the man hummed something musical and silky smooth. The sound sent cool shivers down Liam’s spine.

  The pain seemed to dull and after a few moments, Liam felt brave enough to open his eyes, lift his head and look around.

  Getting his bearings, he realised he was lying on one of the sofas in his front room. Standing over him was perhaps the most striking looking young man he’d ever seen, with short, messy, white-blonde hair. He was watching Liam with bright, crystal clear, light blue eyes framed by thick, blonde lashes. His skin had a soft glow, as if it was bathed in moonlight, which was possible, because Liam noted that there were no lights on anywhere.

  “How did I get here?” he asked, feeling more than a little confused. “Last thing I remember I was lying on the track. You were there, but then, I think I must have passed out.”

  Jack nodded, smiling. “You did, so I carried you,” He explained. “Out cold you were. I was worried for a little while there, big feller. Can’t tell you how relieved I was when you started to stir.”

  Liam tried to speak but talking had never been such an effort before. He was exhausted and that was without even attempting to sit up. He took a deep breath and tried again.

  “Why is it so dark? Has there been a power cut?” He slurred the words, his voice cracking and hoarse.

  “I don’t know what you mean by that, big feller. It’s night time, it’s meant tae be dark.” Jack smiled and tipped his head to one side, his white blond hair moving to cover one clear blue eye. The action was strangely familiar.

  “You could switch a light on.” Liam suggested, pointing towards the light switches by his living room door. “Just those switches over there.”

  He dropped his hand and closed his eyes, groaning. The action of pointing had taken more of an effort than it should have. He felt terrible, and a little insecure, having a stranger in his house, but also very glad there was someone there, because otherwise he’d be in real trouble.

  He listened as Jack moved across the room. The man was muttering to himself and at first Liam thought he couldn’t make out what it was because he was whispering, until he concentrated a little more and realised the man was muttering in another language that sounded very much like—Liam’s heart gave an excited flip—Gaelic.

  “Ah, this thing on the wall you mean.” Jack called before the room was flooded with light.

  Liam cried out as the brightness hurt his eyes and sent sharp spikes of pain shooting through his head.

  “Liam!” Jack was by his side in a flash, his cool fingers brushing over Liam’s forehead, soothing and dulling the spikes of pain. Liam opened his eyes again to see the look of concern on Jack’s face.

  “All right there, big feller. Sorry if that hurt. I didn’t realise it would, or I wouldn’t have done the light thing.” He smiled apologetically. “Clever though, to have light on a switch like that. Works like magic.”

  Liam wanted to think a little more about the odd things Jack was saying but he was distracted by the man’s dazzling smile and brilliant blue eyes. There was a spattering of freckles across the bridge of Jack’s nose that made him look much younger than he sounded, and his smile revealed sharp white teeth, that, for a moment seemed to sparkle.

  The phenomenon made Liam blink and his vision blurred again, his head spinning alarmingly. With a groan he closed his eyes, leaning back into the cushions.

  “Oh, God.” He groaned. “I think I might have hit my head a bit too hard.”

  Jack gave a low chuckle that Liam felt in his chest.

  “You just think so?” He laughed. “I know so. I saw you fall. Gave me quite a turn, you did. And when you just lay there….” Jack stopped, his breath hitching, shocking Liam into opening his eyes again. Jack had moved closer, kneeling on the floor close to Liam’s head. His eyes were wide with concern and he was biting his lip. His cool fingers had moved to lay gently on Liam’s cheek. “I’m glad I didn’t run away this time. Where would you be now if I had? The change was a bit of a struggle. I’d have liked a bit longer to practice.” He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the soft, messy curls. “I don’t think I quite got the hair right.”

  Liam wanted to say Jack’s hair was perfect, but he didn’t trust his voice. Besides, where the hell could Jack have run to? He wasn’t wearing any….

  “Shoes!” Liam exclaimed as he recalled the last thing he’d noticed before he’d blacked out on the track. His exclamation caused Jack to widen his eyes in shock. “You weren’t wearing any shoes.” He added, to clarify his statement.

  Jack chuckled. “Och, shoes just get in the way.” He explained, dimples showing on both cheeks as he smirked. “I never wear anything on my feet. Except…” Jack rolled his pale blue eyes and held up one, slender, elegant finger, “…there was that one time when the, er, well, you know, I was trying to be quiet, so I had to wear—slippers—or was it gloves?—to get away, but that was just a misunderstanding.”

  Liam let the words wash over him again, enjoying the lyrical accent, his head hurting too much to be able to fathom any meaning to anything Jack said.

  “Thank you, for helping me,” he whispered, wishing he didn’t sound so weak and wishy washy.

  “You’re very welcome, big feller.” Jack’s eyes twinkled and sparkled as his smile broadened. Liam felt his heart skip a beat.

  Jack was stunningly beautiful, and when he smiled, it felt like the sun had broken through dark clouds, filling the room with more than just the artificial electric light.

  Liam was struck by the sensation that he had seen this man before, but that wasn’t possible. If he had met Jack before, he’d have remembered. Someone as striking looking as Jack was not easily forgotten.

  “Can I get you anything, big feller?” Jack asked.

  Liam did not want Jack to feel obliged to stay, or to do anything else. However, he also didn’t see any other option but to allow this man to help. Every attempt he’d made to sit so far had just ended in him feeling worse. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, it felt as dry as the sandy ground in Raphael’s garden.

  “Could you get me a glass of water, please. If it’s not too much trouble.” Liam whispered.

  “Of course I will, big feller.” Jack jumped to his feet, looking about. “I’ll get you a cool cloth as well, just as soon as I locate your well.”

  “My what?” Liam tried to sit up but fell back again with a groan. “Jack, I might live in the back of beyond, but I happen to have all the usual amenities, and I don’t have a well. Just get some water from the tap in the kitchen. The glasses are in the cupboard above to the right of the sink.”

  “Huh.” Jack gave a dismissive snort. “A tap, and glasses. How quaint.”

  He disappeared into the kitchen leaving Liam to wonder about the conversation he’d just had. Where the hell did Jack come from if he thought Liam would draw his water from a well and didn’t know about light switches, or wear shoes, or anything else the man had said that was completely and utterly unfathomable? Liam sighed. Was he doing Jack a disservice? The man had helped him after all, and he seemed mostly harmless, even if he did say some strange things.

  A stream of curses from the direction of his kitchen had Liam trying to sit up and giving up when the pain and dizziness caused a wave of nausea.

  “Oh god.” He moaned, his hands rubbing at his aching temples.

  Should he be asking Jack to call an ambulance? He felt the back of his head. There didn’t appear to be any blood, or even any scabbed over cut. Perhaps what he’d thought was blood, when he’d first fallen, had just been water.

  Jack returned, helped him to sit, packing some cushions behind his back for support and handed him a glass of very cold water. The water was so cold it stung his lips and teeth and froze his tongue, but he was so thirsty he drank anyway, care
ful not to tip his head back too much. Some of the water dribbled down the side of his chin and Jack wiped it with a corner of his t shirt.

  “I think you might need a nurse.” He chuckled before rolling his pretty eyes. “Although, I haven’t ever done this sort of thing before, so I might not be very good at it.”

  “Not that I’ve had much experience of being nursed, but you seem to be doing okay.” Liam smiled, his gratitude growing. Who else would be willing to give up an entire night to nurse a complete stranger? “You don’t have to stay, though.” Liam lifted his head and regretted the movement almost immediately as the nausea returned and he fought to keep down the water he’d just drank. “Oh dear.”

  He felt helpless and frustrated. He didn’t want to be an inconvenience. How could he ask this of Jack? But he really didn’t see any other course of action. He could ask to go to hospital but that would not be a very pleasant trip, the nearest hospital was thirty miles away. The thought of being left alone was even less attractive, but he did feel he had to at least try to give Jack a choice.

  “You don’t have to stay.” Liam repeated. “You must have plans with your family. It’s the holiday weekend and you’ve already done so much. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

  “I don’t need repaying, big feller. It was my pleasure.” Jack had placed his cool, soothing hand back on Liam’s forehead and almost instantly the pounding had dulled. “And I think I do need to stay.” He said in a gentler, almost tender tone. “I’ve heard head injuries can be pretty tricky. If you want me to leave, I will, but I’d rather stay and help. I really don’t mind, and I don’t have any plans, family or otherwise.”

  Jack seemed to be genuine. Besides, why would Liam say no to such an offer from such a man? It wasn’t every day he got the opportunity to spend an evening with someone so stunning. Those cool fingers were very soothing, and that smooth, lyrical, Scottish accent was relaxing and reassuring. Liam felt safe.

  “Perhaps you’re right.” Liam agreed. “I could have concussion. And you seem to have a magic touch.”

  “You’d better believe I do, big feller.” Jack grinned, the sight filling Liam with unexpected joy, as did the nickname he appeared to have been given, although he was aware that he may not have actually introduced himself.

  “My name’s Liam, by the way.” He chuckled.

  “Oh, I know your name, Liam.” Jack whispered, as he fussed about on the sofa at Liam’s feet now. “But you’re quite a bit taller than me. Big Feller fits you perfect, but I’ll stop calling you that if you want.”

  “No.” Liam felt sleepy, and warm, and, wherever Jack touched him, strangely cool as well. The sensations lulled him, and he yawned as Jack finally stopped fussing with extra blankets and settled at the opposite end of the sofa, pulling Liam’s feet onto his lap. He met the man’s eyes and gave him a sleepy smile. “I quite like the way it sounds when you say it.”

  “Good.” Jack smiled back. “Now sleep, Big Feller. That’s the best way tae heal. I’ll stay until you wake.”

  Jack’s words lulled him to sleep. The last thing he saw was Jack’s white blond hair seeming to glow, as the light in the room gave him a glittering halo.

  “You look like an angel, Jack.” Liam whispered.

  Jack grinned, showing a row of sharp incisors and canines that made the man’s face look like that of a fox. A white fox.

  Liam’s dreams were filled with snow, and a white, frost-covered fox dancing on a frozen lake, making patterns in the ice and grinning at him as he said. “Alright there, big feller?”

  ****

  Frosty Promises

  Liam woke alone. A confusing situation, since he hadn’t fallen asleep alone, nor had he fallen asleep in his bed, which was where he appeared to be now.

  He sat, slowly, fully expecting his head to start throbbing the way it had the night before. When it didn’t, he was a little disorientated and then relieved. He gingerly felt the back of his head. There should have been at least a killer headache and a large bump with a cut that would probably need stitching. Instead, all he appeared to have was a slight bruise, with no swelling and no discernible laceration. The headache was all but gone.

  That was odd. It was true that head wounds bled quite a bit more than others, making them seem worse than they actually were, but he was sure there’d been a cut there the night before and had been convinced it was a bad one. But now it was gone.

  And so was Jack.

  “So much for staying until I wake.” Liam muttered, immediately feeling bad because Jack hadn’t needed to stay at all, and if he’d had to leave before Liam woke, then so be it. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, because he was far from it, but he was disappointed. He’d have liked to have thanked Jack properly for everything he’d done, but such was life.

  There was a noise from the living room. Liam froze. Perhaps Jack wasn’t gone after all.

  Another noise, some shuffling and a muttered curse had Liam jumping out of bed, smiling to himself. Jack was still there.

  He opened his bedroom door and scanned the living room: no Jack. Liam frowned. If Jack hadn’t made that noise, then who had?

  Liam had, on occasion, been visited by Mrs Appleby’s cat, who sometimes followed him home hoping for tuna. He didn’t want to think this could be one of those occasions, because he very much wanted Jack to be still here, not some cheeky little cat that shed its long white fur over everything it so much as looked at. Besides, cats did not usually curse, out loud anyway.

  “Jack?” He called, feeling hopeful.

  “Yeah!” Jack appeared suddenly, looking a little dishevelled, jumping up from the floor in front of the sofa as if he’d been stung by something. He straightened out his rather short t shirt and ran his fingers through his ruffled white blond hair before regarding Liam with a broad, impish grin. “Alright there, big feller? How you feelin’ this mornin’?”

  Liam was so mesmerised by the sound of this man’s drawling Scottish accent that he could almost forget that he’d just watched Jack pick himself up from the floor.

  “I’m feeling fine, thanks.” He said in quick reply to Jack’s inquiry. “Were you sleeping on the floor?” He frowned, stepping over to the sofa and looking down at the floor where he suspected Jack had been lying.

  “No.” Jack chuckled, a little insincerely. “Why would I do that? That would be stupid, when there’s a perfectly good, warm—er—soft thing, right here.” He indicated the sofa.

  “It’s a sofa.” Liam provided the word for him and Jack nodded.

  “Yeah, that.” He grinned. “That’s where I slept, all night.” He met Liam’s gaze with wide, earnest eyes. “Didn’t move.”

  Jack sidestepped to a spot on the floor, and surreptitiously rubbed the area over with his foot. Liam frowned even harder. The action made his head ache a little more, reminding him that he might not be suffering too much of a fallout from his accident the night before, but that was just down to luck and good aftercare.

  He looked up to meet Jack’s eyes. They were as blue as he remembered, so his memory hadn’t been affected by the bump to his head. He was a bit confused though.

  “How did I get to bed?” He asked. “The last thing I remember was you massaging my feet while I lay on the sofa.”

  Jack grinned. “I didn’t want you get a crick in your neck, big feller, so I carried you to bed.”

  “Carried me?” Liam exclaimed. There was a reason Jack had nicknamed him “big feller”, and not because Liam was particularly tall, but because Jack was tiny. The height difference was far more noticeable now they were both on their feet. “You must be at least five or six inches smaller than me and quite a bit slimmer.” Liam pointed out. “How the hell did you manage to carry me and not wake me up?”