How he had fallen asleep in that position, North would never know. He guessed it was from years of snoozing in tree branches, park benches, and the occasional colorful tunnels found on most playgrounds.
As of now, however, the one and only Jack Frost was draped across North’s sturdy chair like a haphazardly discarded blanket. His legs were sprawled; one rested on the chair’s edge while the other was bent at an odd angle and dangled off of the chair’s armrest. His torso was twisted so that his legs could rest in their positions while his upper half snuggled into the crook of the chair. Jack’s hair was plastered against