“I remember…” he says, flashbacks still lingering in his mind.
“You do?” Merida asked, hopeful, she thought her friend dead all these years, she won’t take losing him again.
Jackson, now known as Jack, smiled, “I remember a small ball of red curls,” he looked up at the now grown up Merida he never realized he missed so much, “Not that that has changed either way right?” There it was, that stupid smirk.
Ignoring the subtle tease to her still bush-like hair, Merida hugged her dear friend. Jack froze but returned the hug with equal fervor, tangling his fingers into her hair. Minutes passed until the hug was broken but the winter spirit had his hands in the girl’s curly hair still. He laughed. “Oh my God! It still eats people’s hands! I can’t believe it!”
