ANOTHER YEAR LATER
“I’m here!” Anna announces as soon as her feet touch the fireplace. “And I didn’t fall! Jonathan?”
She can just make out a tall form sprawled on the couch, and, upon closer inspection, finds that it is, in fact, Jonathan, who is snoring lightly and...is that drool? Anna stifles a laugh, but moves past him as quietly as she can, thinking that if he’s managed to fall asleep in such an uncomfortable position, he probably needs all the sleep he can get.
Unfortunately, the quietest Anna can move around ranks at least a strong seven on everyone else’s scale of one to ten of loudness, and as such, it’s not long before she’s given the fright of her life when a voice close to her ear says: “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Oof!” Anna lets out in surprise, falling backwards before she can stop herself and ending up with her head in Jonathan’s lap. He looks down at her with an amused expression, and she scowls.
“Geez, you could give a girl a warning before you creep up on her like that,” she chastises. Jonathan lets out a laugh, and it’s weird to watch from her vantage point, because he’s upside down and laughs upside down are a weird thing to watch.
“I'm sorry,” he says, although he doesn't sound very sorry at all.
“Are you?” Anna arches a brow, which also feels weird, because raising eyebrows whilst lying down is actually way harder than people might think. If people think about raising eyebrows whilst lying down. “Because I don't think you are.”
Jonathan gasps and clutches his chest in mock injury. “Anna! How could you! Of course I'm sorry!”
“Prove it.”
At this, a smirk unfurls on Jonathan's lips, slow and lazy, and he moves his head down and closer to hers. Without realising it, Anna's breath hitches. He waits for a few long seconds, and then says in a low tone of voice: “Would the plate of cookies on the table help convince you?”
Anna's head shoots up from his lap at the mere mention of baked goods, and she turns to face him. “Cookies?” she repeats excitedly.
“That's what I said, wasn't it?” he replies in a teasing manner, standing and offering her a hand to get up. As soon as Anna's on her feet, she's rushing to the kitchen table, leaving Jonathan to trail after her, stifling a laugh.
“You know,” Anna begins conversationally after eating three cookies in about as many seconds, “these taste better every year.”
“You flatterer,” Jonathan responds, sitting on the table beside her chair.
“It's true!” she protests, letting crumbs fly everywhere. “Are you sure Flynn made these?”
“But of course,” he says smoothly. “Who else would make them?”
“I have a few ideas,” Anna informs him wryly.
“Does it matter?” he queries. “The most important person in a baking process is the one who tastes the end product.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really.”
“There is no way I'm more important than you,” Anna asserts, taking a sip of her milk. Jonathan raises his eyebrows.
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."
