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The key rattled in the door far longer than usual. Elsa paused in the living room, a novel open on her lap, as she listened to the noise. She tilted her head, already suspecting what. or rather, who was causing the commotion. Finally, the door clicked open, and in stumbled Jack, his tie askew and a lopsided grin plastered across his face.
"Home sweet home!" he declared, a little too loudly, spreading his arms as though announcing his arrival to the universe.
Elsa bit her lip to keep from laughing as she closed her book. She got up and walked toward him, taking in the slightly disheveled suit and the unmistakable gleam in his eyes. Jack didn't get drunk often, but when he did, it was always a night to remember.
"Jack," she said with a mixture of amusement and mock sternness, folding her arms as she stood in the doorway. "How much did you have to drink?"
He swayed slightly, holding up one finger, then two, then paused. "Wait, I've got it. Uh…somewhere between a little and a lot. Closer to a lot."
"I can tell," she said, fighting a smile. She walked up to him and caught his elbow as he wobbled. "What on earth were you celebrating?"
He leaned down, peering at her face with dramatic seriousness, as though this were the most important question he'd ever answer. "Celebrating you, Elsa Grace!"
Her brow arched. "Me?"
"You," he confirmed, pointing a finger at her nose and accidentally poking her cheek instead. "Do you realize what an excellent wife you are? And so beautiful. Because the entire office agrees."
She laughed now, tugging him inside before he could trip over the threshold. "Oh, so you were talking about me at work?"
"Non-stop," he declared as she guided him toward the couch. He flopped down dramatically, his legs sprawling out as he stared up at her with glazed but utterly adoring eyes. "Told everyone you're the best cook, the best reader of books, the best…you know, wife things!"
Elsa perched on the arm of the couch, her lips twitching with suppressed laughter. "Wife things, huh? That's very specific."
"I mean it," Jack said, attempting to sit up straight but failing and sliding back down. "You're so…you're like the moon! No…the sun! Bright and…and warm. And pretty. The prettiest, Elsa! Prettier than all the planets put together."
She covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head. "Jack, that's the alcohol talking."
"No, it's not!" He waved his arm dramatically, narrowly missing a nearby lamp. "This is sober Jack's inner thoughts finally escaping! Sober Jack keeps them in because he's cooler, but drunk Jack? No filters. Only love."
Elsa doubled over laughing. "Okay, okay, poet of the planets. Come on, we need to get you into your pajamas before you fall asleep in that suit."
"I like my suit," he protested weakly, his head lolling back against the cushion. "It's suave."
"It was suave," she corrected, tugging at his tie. "Now it's rumpled and smells like alcohol. Up you get Mr. Frost!"
Jack groaned but allowed her to pull him to his feet, leaning heavily on her as they stumbled toward the bedroom. "You're so strong, Elsa. Strong and tiny. Like a little, fierce tiger. No, wait, tigers aren't tiny. Maybe a…a squirrel?"
She snorted as she dragged him down the hallway. "A squirrel? Really?"
"A majestic squirrel!" he clarified, stopping briefly to grab her shoulders and stare at her with glassy-eyed sincerity. "Do not sell yourself short. You'd be a queen squirrel."
They reached the bedroom, and she guided him toward the bed. "Alright," she teased, "let's see if you can get your arms out of this jacket without breaking anything."
Jack attempted to shrug off his blazer but got stuck halfway. "Help," he said pitifully, arms flapping like a trapped bird.
Elsa bit back another laugh as she freed him. "You're hopeless."
"I'm madly in love with you, is what I am," Jack countered, flopping backward onto the bed and grinning up at her. "With the prettiest, smartest, squirrel-tiger-sun-moon wife in the world."
Elsa crouched beside him to untie his shoes, shaking her head. "You're going to regret all this mushy talk tomorrow."
"No way," he slurred, kicking off one shoe and nearly hitting the wall. "I'll regret the whiskey, sure. But not the part where I tell you every five minutes that I love you. That's good stuff."
"You're a charmer tonight," she said, tugging off the other shoe and moving to unbutton his shirt.
He raised an eyebrow, attempting a smirk. "Oh? You're undressing me now? How Scandalous Mrs. Jack."
She rolled her eyes, tugging his shirt free. "I'm trying to keep you from waking up tangled like a pretzel in this mess."
"You're so thoughtful babe." Jack reached up to brush her cheek but ended up patting her shoulder instead. "How'd I get so lucky, huh?"
Elsa softened, her hands stilling for a moment. She leaned down to kiss his forehead. "I think I'm the lucky one."
"Wrong," he murmured, his voice starting to drift as sleep tugged at him. "I win! Jackpot. Best wife ever. Squirrel queen or moon lady." She guided him under the blanket, his murmurs growing softer as his eyes fluttered shut.
Just as she turned off the bedside lamp, he whispered, "Elsa, you light up my whole life…even if you yell at me for kissing you too much."
She chuckled quietly, pressing a kiss to his hair. "I'll take it as a compliment. Sleep, you drunk fool."
Just as Elsa was settling beside him, Jack stirred under the blanket, his eyes fluttering open. "No, wait," he mumbled, reaching out and grabbing her wrist before she could lie down.
"What now?" she asked, half amused, half exhausted. "Don't tell me you forgot something important, like declaring your love for the toaster."
Jack snorted, pulling her closer until she was practically on top of him. "No, the toaster already knows I appreciate it. But you, my brilliant, beautiful, squirrel-tiger of a wife, deserve more kisses."
She tried to wiggle free, laughing. "Jack, it's late, and you're basically dead weight right now. Let me at least get comfortable."
"You're already comfortable," he argued, his grip tightening as he buried his face against her neck, his breath warm and slightly whiskey-scented. "You smell like…I don't know. Flowers? Or cookies? Maybe cookie-flowers. Something perfect."
"Cookie-flowers?" Elsa chuckled, brushing his hair back. "Now I know you're delirious."
"I'm in love," he corrected dramatically, his voice muffled against her skin. "And when a man's in love, he compares his wife to baked goods and plants."
"You're ridiculous," she murmured, unable to suppress her grin as he began peppering small, clumsy kisses along her jaw.
"Ridiculously lucky," he said between kisses, his voice softening in a way that made her stomach flutter. "Elsa, do you have any idea how amazing you are?"
"Not nearly as amazing as your drunk speeches are tonight," she teased, running her fingers through his hair to tame it.
Jack pulled back just enough to look at her, his glassy but affectionate eyes locking onto hers. "You think I'm joking, but I'm serious. You, Elsa Grace...are my miracle." He tapped his chest as though trying to emphasize his point. "I mean, I look at you, and I'm like, wow, this gorgeous, brilliant woman loves me. Do you know what that's like? It's like winning every lottery on the planet at once."
Her laugh bubbled out before she could stop it, her cheeks flushing despite herself. "Jack, stop before you run out of compliments for the rest of the year."
"Impossible," he declared, leaning forward to press another kiss to her cheek. "I could fill a thousand books with all the reasons I love you." He kissed her other cheek. "And I'd still keep coming up with new ones."
Elsa shook her head, torn between exasperation and overwhelming fondness. "You are so unbearably sweet when you're drunk. I don't know whether to laugh or cry."
"Laugh," Jack urged, grinning like a fool. "Your laugh is my favorite sound. It's like…like music. No, better than music. It's like winter in sound form."
"Now you're just throwing random words together," she said, laughing despite herself.
"No, I'm trying to be romantic," he protested, clutching her hand and holding it to his chest like he was making a heartfelt pledge. "Elsa, my beautiful-laugh-squirrel-goddess, promise me you'll never leave me."
"I'm stuck with you." Her smile softened as she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. "I promise, Jack. But only if you promise to stop calling me a squirrel."
He squinted at her, his lips twitching. "Hmm. Fine. You can be a tiger now. The majestic Elsa Tiger. I'd watch a nature show about you."
"Wow, I feel so flattered," she deadpanned, though her laughter betrayed her.
"You should," Jack murmured, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Because you're my whole world, Elsa. I don't need nature shows or planets or moon-cookie-flowers. Just you. My Elsa."
Elsa's heart squeezed as he held her gaze, his drunken sincerity shining through despite the absurdity of his words. "You're going to forget all this in the morning, you know."
"Never," he said, his arms tightening around her. "I'll wake up hungover, sure. But I won't forget."
She let herself melt against him for a moment, her fingers stroking the back of his neck as he nuzzled closer. "Alright, Idiot," she said softly. "Time to sleep for real."
"I will," he whispered, his voice already starting to fade as sleep pulled at him. "But only if you stay right here."
"I'm not going anywhere," Elsa promised, her voice laced with affection as she settled beside him, his arm draped around her.
"Good," he mumbled, pressing a final, clumsy kiss to her forehead. "Because you're my everything, and everything needs to stay right here."
And as Jack drifted off into a deep, contented sleep, Elsa lay awake for a while longer, her hand resting lightly over his. She smiled into the darkness, feeling impossibly lucky to have this silly, romantic, light-drunk man as her husband.
Jack groaned as he slowly peeled his eyes open, his head throbbing like a drumline was rehearsing inside it. His mouth was dry, and there was a faint taste of whiskey lingering on his tongue, unpleasantly stale and much stronger than he remembered from last night.
The sunlight streamed through the curtains, far too bright for his current state, and he winced as he rolled over, burying his face into the pillow. That's when he heard it...the sound of Elsa humming. Cheerful, melodic, completely unaware, or, worse, completely aware, of the agony her husband was in.
A faint, traitorous memory of last night flashed through his mind...something about planets, tigers, and…squirrels? His stomach turned with embarrassment.
What the hell did he do last night?
"Good morning, Mr. Poet of the Planets!" The pretty voice startled Jack, and he peeked one eye open to see Elsa standing in the doorway, holding a steaming mug of coffee. She looked far too amused and far too awake.
"Kill me now," he muttered, his voice raspy.
Elsa laughed as she crossed the room, setting the coffee on the nightstand beside him. "Oh no, you don't get to escape that easily. Not after the performance you gave last night."
Jack groaned again, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes. "Please tell me I didn't embarrass myself too much."
"Well." She dragged out the word playfully, perching on the edge of the bed. "That depends on your definition of 'too much.' If you think waxing poetic about moon-cookie-flowers and squirrels is embarrassing, then, uh, maybe a little."
Jack's hand slid down his face, his cheeks already flushing with humiliation. "Oh God, I did call you a squirrel, didn't I?"
"Not just any squirrel," Elsa corrected, her grin widening. "A majestic squirrel. Also, a squirrel-tiger. And the queen of all squirrels."
He groaned louder, grabbing a pillow and smashing it over his face. "Why didn't you stop me?"
"Are you kidding me? I wasn't going to stop drunk Jack mid-monologue. That was pure gold," Elsa said, tugging the pillow off his face and tossing it aside. "Besides, I had to record it all in my brain for moments like this."
Jack peered at her suspiciously. "You didn't actually record it, right?"
"Relax, I didn't film you," she reassured him. Then, with a sly smile, she added, "Although I did consider it. You were very enthusiastic."
Jack groaned, tugging the blanket over his face. "Tell me you're joking."
Elsa tugged the blanket down just enough to see his wide, panicked eyes. "You'll never know for sure, will you?"
"Elsa," he said seriously, his voice muffled.
She couldn't hold back her laughter any longer, falling back onto the bed beside him. "Relax, Jack. I didn't record anything. But I did commit it to memory because drunk you is my favorite kind of you."
"Favorite?" he said, his voice incredulous as he turned his head toward her. "More like your most humiliating kind of me."
She shrugged, biting back another grin. "Humiliating, maybe. But also sweet, charming, and wildly funny. You were kissing me every five seconds and comparing me to the sun, the moon, baked goods, and all of nature. Do you know how hard it was not to laugh the entire time?"
Jack's hand covered his face again as he groaned. "I don't even remember half of that. Wait-" He peeked at her. "Did I really call you a moon-cookie-flower?"
Elsa nodded, biting her lip to suppress her laugh. "You also told me I 'smell like cookie-flowers,' whatever those are. And you said my laugh sounds better than music. Oh! And you promised to watch a nature show about me if one ever existed."
Jack stared at her, speechless for a moment. Then he groaned again, his head thumping back against the pillow. "Why am I like this?"
Elsa laughed, shifting so she was lying beside him, propped up on one elbow. "Because you love me, apparently. And the alcohol didn't hurt your honesty levels, either."
"I'm never drinking again," he mumbled.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," she teased, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his face. "For what it's worth, though, I loved every ridiculous thing you said last night. It was like getting an unfiltered version of you, and honestly, it just made me love you even more."
Jack cracked an eye open, watching her carefully. "Really?"
"Really," she said softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Even when you're sloppy and making up words, you're still my favorite person in the world. You're pretty great, Jack Frost, drunk or not."
For a moment, he just stared at her, his embarrassment giving way to the kind of warmth only Elsa could give him. He reached up, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer until her head rested against his chest.
"I'm glad you find me entertaining, Elsa Frost," he murmured, brushing a hand through her hair. "But seriously, next time, just knock me out and save me from myself."
"Never," Elsa said with a grin, her voice muffled against him. "I wouldn't trade drunk Jack for anything. Even if you do compare me to squirrels and tigers."
"Majestic squirrels," Jack corrected with a faint chuckle, kissing the top of her head.
Elsa laughed, snuggling closer. "Exactly. Majestic squirrels forever."
And though his head still throbbed and his pride was bruised, Jack couldn't imagine a better place to be, or a better person to share it all with.
Elsa Frost, was all he needed.