ANOTHER YEAR LATER
“Jonathan?”
“Hey,” she can’t see him for all the books piled high on the table, but just from the monosyllable she can tell he’s exhausted.
“What are you doing studying at a time like this?” Anna asks gently, crossing over to the kitchen table and parting the books to catch a glimpse of Jonathan’s face, pale and drawn with tiredness.
“I don’t know,” he responds honestly, voice hoarse. “Med school has ruined my life.”
She lets out a soft laugh, moving round the table to stand behind him and take the pen from his hand, dropping a kiss on his cheek as she does so. Anna draws back, letting her chin drop onto his shoulder and beginning to rub small circles onto his shoulders. “Well, not tonight, okay?” she murmurs. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
“Okay,” Jonathan sighs, eyes closed. They stay like that in silence for a while, before he eventually says: “Hi.”
“Hi,” she chuckles in response. “How are you, obvious med school troubles aside?”
He twists in his chair to face her, already looking a little bit better than before as he offers her a smile. “Good. Very good, now that you’re here. How’s life in the North Pole?”
“Oh, you know, a little dark, a little cold at times,” Anna says with humour, and then her expression drops as she remembers: “And Nick didn’t get up to do the presents, so I’m on it this year. Which means I can’t stay long.”
“Oh,” Jonathan’s facial expression matches the disappointment she feels.
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Sorry about that. But I have your presents!” Anna nods towards the sack that she’s left by the fireplace.
He smiles. “Flynn would be happy to see that.”
“And Jonathan wouldn’t?” she quirks a brow.
“Jonathan is happy to see you,” he corrects, getting up to give her a hug, and she feels his warmth rush through her at a dizzying speed. Anna lets a content smile slip onto her face of its own accord.
“And Anna is happy to see Jonathan,” she mumbles into his shoulder.
“More like Anna is happy to see Jonathan’s cookies,” Jonathan pulls back with a knowing look.
“You got me,” she smirks. “I’m only here for the baked goods.”
He rolls his eyes. “They’re on the counter.”
Anna heads straight there, grabbing one without another word.
“Sorry,” he apologises, following her. “Just plain ones this time.”
“Plain iced ones,” she corrects, crumbs flying everywhere. “So not plain.”
"As long as you enjoy them," he yawns, smiling.
"Of course I do," Anna rolls her eyes, licking the remaining crumbs of what was once (okay, by once she means, like, two minutes ago) the cookie off her fingers.
“Good,” he hums, then yawns again.
“Stop yawning, it’s...” she trails off to stifle a yawn of her own, “s’infectious.”
“I’m sorry,” Jonathan rubs his eyes. “I’m just really tired...”
“And I have no idea why you stayed up,” she chastises.
“For you,” he replies in a tone of voice that implies it’s obvious (okay, it kind of is).
“I am not worth this amount of yawns and exhaustion, Jonathan McQueen,” Anna informs him in a no-nonsense voice, grabbing the plate of cookies and taking it with her to the couch.
YOU ARE READING
Twelve Ways To Spend One's Christmas Eve
Short Story"Anna dislikes being stuck three-quarters of the way down a chimney. She really does. Not to mention, she's still going round North America, and there's, like, three continents still to get through in about as many hours."
