December Kisses || chaennie

Chapter 2

So maybe, having offered to pay for Jennie's white hot-chocolate was a careless idea. I mean, looking into the faces of my roommates and declaring the oil a thing of non-importance was something that even I face-palmed at, the moment it came out of my mouth.

Hence why I escaped the house and forced my way into Jennie's apartment. By force, I mean turning the key just that little bit harder because for one, I was angry and maybe the cold made the joints stiff. Joints of my bones, joints of the lock, who knows? I purposely kicked snow from my feet so that it flicked onto the walls and floor.

The habit of tossing my jacket onto the coat hanger was instilled into me. So, purposely strolling my way into the sitting room and flinging it over the back of the couch where Jennie was curled up beneath a blanket, was a little hard to do. I persevered and dropped a plastic bag I brought with me by the side of the couch.

"Well, what's your emergency?"

"Sorry?" I flicked the blanket up and waited longer than I needed to sit down, making her eyebrows raise.

"The key was for emergent use only," she pointed out, not looking overly angry over the fact as her fluffy socks curled up to the side of my leg. "Moodiness doesn't qualify as that."

"Ah," I said, nodding. "Well, you see, my toes were about to fall off back at the house."

"You need to get oil."

"Sure do, but sadly, the funds are not there."

"What do you mean, not there?"

I let my body marvel at the warmth insulated beneath the blanket. Feeling her toes nudge my leg, I reluctantly said, "Well, we can't exactly afford a decent amount of oil at this moment of time?"

Jennie studied me for a moment. "By we, you mean you?"

I looked up at the ceiling. "Well, technically if I can't afford it, neither can they?"

"I promise I am an adult."

"Not a functioning one." She wiggled out from beneath the blanket and looked around her kitchen for something. The sense of purpose in her walk was humorous. Only after I figured out what she was doing. She placed a bag of popcorn in the microwave with a satisfied smile and leaned against the counter. "You're too cold to sit next to."

"Is that why you're making popcorn?"

"Yes."

"Not a hot beverage to warm me up?"

"No, no more hot-chocolate for either of us."

I sat up, my heart breaking a little and whined, "What? Why?"

She gave me a look. "Your lack of financial management capability means that you can't provide sufficient warmth for yourself. Your role in this friendship is to keep me warm and hot chocolate compromises that, ironically enough."

I rolled my eyes because of course she'd make light of the situation but mask her solution through a little jab. 

The blanket covering me was fluffy and it smelt of her. Honestly, lying down on the couch as she made shook the popcorn in the bag was the highlight of my day.

She poured the popcorn into a big bowl and joined me on the couch and for once let my feet up on the coffee table without saying a word.

The television turned on and we ate popcorn whilst watching The Apprentice, which of course was another silent jab at my poor money handling. My eyes rolled again at the choice, but the gratefulness for the warmth of her apartment and the lack of mention of me setting up for the night, made me keep my lips firmly closed.

"Oh," I said, realising something.

"Hmm?"

I climbed out of the blanket, despite her protests and plucked up the plastic bag by the couch. I dumped it into her lap. "For you."

She looked down at the bag. "You shouldn't have."

I snorted. "You haven't even looked at it yet."

"No, I mean you shouldn't have because you're broke."

"Oh my God, just take it out."

"Fine." Jennie pulled the object out of the bag and stared at it with a ridiculously large grin. She turned to me and planted a big fat kiss on the side of my forehead and returned her attention back to the cardboard box. "I've got to hang this somewhere..."

I grinned at the warmth rising in my chest. "On the fridge?"

She did just that.

Apparently, an advent calendar was worthy of being put on the fridge, along with photos of us and a conjoined drawing we drew years ago.