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.

         “And why not?”

         “Just...no,” she says dismissively.  “I'm me. Just me. There are always people more important than me.”

        Jonathan is silent for a long time, before saying:  “That's not true.” She throws him a disbelieving look.

         “Tonight, you're the most important person on the planet,” he smiles, poking her side.  “Literally.”

         “Nick's the most important person on the planet,” she corrects.

         “No,” Jonathan shakes his head, “you are. They talk about him, but you're the one delivering the presents, aren't you?”

        Anna purses her lips. Could he possibly maybe have a point?

        As though reading her mind, Jonathan says in a crow of triumph:  “See? I'm always right!”

        She rolls her eyes.  “I wouldn't say you're always right...”

         “Oh, I so am,” he interrupts cockily.

        Her eyes narrow.  “Over-confidence is never a good look to have,” she sniffs in response.

         “Hey, if I can back it up, it's just confidence,” he replies with a grin.

         “Alright, Mr. Confidence,” she snorts.  “Just make sure you don't get too big for your boots.”

         “I'm  sure even if I do, you'll always be there to shrink me right back down again,” he replies with a smile, and Anna realises with a jolt that she probably won't be. She can see the change in Jonathan year by year - already, he's carrying himself differently, almost as if he's...

         “Jonathan?”

         “Hm?”

         “How old are you now?” she asks, hoping against hope that her voice isn't shaking too much. He looks up from where he's idly rearranging the cookies on the plate to shoot her another smile, now paired with a slightly bemused look. 

         “Eighteen, why?”

         “Just asking,” Anna says in a voice barely louder than a whisper, feeling her heart sink slowly. Eighteen. Already an adult. A few more years, and she'll be nothing but a ghost. 

         “The way you're looking at me, my hair's already greying and I've got dementia,” he teases. 

         “Sorry,” Anna says, but it's absent and distant, and Jonathan clearly notices, because next thing she knows he's far closer than before, one hand on her knee. 

         “Hey,” he says softly, putting two fingers under her chin and tilting it upwards so she looks him in the eye.  “Does it matter that I'm getting older? I'm not going to forget you any time soon. You know that.”

        Jonathan seems so painfully sincere that it would be bordering on heartless not to believe him. Anna exhales softly, wrapping her own fingers round the ones under her chin.  “Right. You're right. Sorry. I...sorry. I  was kinda just thinking about it, and you look more kind of adultish now - not that that's a bad thing! And it just came out, I didn't mean it! Well, I did, I mean all I did was ask you how old you were, but, like, I didn't mean anything by it! I just - ”

         “I know,” he cuts her off with an amused look.  “Have you noticed that you do a lot of that?”

         “What? Talk? I know, I do it way too much, Nick always says people could probably go deaf listening to me talk and that I defy all laws of nature by being able to keep going for so long without having to stop for breath, but then I always say that I already defy laws of nature, and so does he, I mean, we're immortal for God's sake - ”

         “Immortal,” Jonathan repeats, eyes wide.

        Great going, Anna, she tells herself. Real great going. 

         “Aha, yeah...” she shifts awkwardly in her chair, uncomfortable with the intensity of Jonathan's scrutiny.  “You knew that before, though...didn't you?”

         “I guessed,” he agrees, and she relaxes slightly.  “It just sounds...different. When you put it like that.”

        Even though he's lowered his hand, Anna's fingers are still tangled in his, and she gives them a squeeze.  “If it doesn't matter that you're getting older, it doesn't matter that I'm not,” she says, then grins.  “Even when you do have grey hair and dementia, I'll still be jumping - ”

         “Falling,” he corrects. 

         “That's where you're wrong!” she drops his hand to shake a finger at him.  “For your information, Mister, I came down your chimney this evening without submitting to the forces of gravity!”

         “I was wondering why I didn't hear you come down,” he replies thoughtfully.

        “You didn't hear me because you were fast asleep,” she snickers, then adds for good measure:  “You never told me that you drool in your sleep.”

        Jonathan's eyes widen and she can just make out the tips of his ears going pink.  “I don't drool,” he protests, but she can tell by the way his gaze shifts from hers that this is a habit he's aware of. 

         “Oh yeah?” she teases.  “Tell that to the damp patch on your couch...”

         “Damp patch?” he repeats panickedly, and she can't help but let out a laugh at his expression. She watches as he rises, presumably to go investigate her claim, and her laughter only intensifies. He turns to scowl at her.

         “It's not funny,” he tells her, although the way the corners of his mouth are twitching up begs to differ.

         “I'm sorry,” she chokes out, using one hand to muffle her laughter and the other to grab his wrist and drag him back towards her and his seat.  “I didn't mean it, I promise!”

         “I should hope not, considering who made you those,” he retorts, nodding at the plate of cookies by her elbow.

         “So you did make them!” Anna declares triumphantly, leaning forward slightly. She just manages to catch the tiniest hitch in his expression as he realises he's been caught, but he keeps an admirably straight face anyway.

         “I never said that,” Jonathan replies. 

         “You implied it.”

         “No, I didn't.”

         “You so did.”

         “I didn't!”

         “Just admit it! You made the cookies, because you love me so much that you stay up the night before Christmas Eve to make them and Flynn only helps a little bit it's mostly you and - ”

         “Okay! Fine!” Jonathan holds both his hands up in surrender, eyes gleaming with humour.  “You got me. Maybe I do bake the cookies. But you bring the presents every year!”

         “Hm,” Anna leans back into her chair.  “I'm thinking of making that my permanent occupation, actually.”

         “Like it isn't already?” Jonathan snorts.

         “Shut up,” she slaps his arm.  “No, but seriously. I don't think Nick would really mind, considering he doesn't actually care, plus...”

         “Plus?”

         “Plus it would mean I get to see you every year. For definite, I mean,” she smiles at him, and a look passes over Jonathan's face that she isn't entirely familiar with but makes her feel warm right down to her toes. 

         “I'd...uh, I'd like that,” he says quietly, and Anna tells herself that the shivers running own her spine are totally from the cold. Even if she can see from where she's sat that the heating in the house is turned up full blast. She watches as Jonathan's brows furrow suddenly, and feels her own follow suit.

         “What?”

         “Nothing,” he shakes his head.  “It's just...”

         “Just?” God, she hates when she can hear dot-dot-dots in people's voices. Only ever means bad things. 

         “Next year. I'll be in college.”

        Anna knows this, of course. It's been in the back of her mind since she started thinking about how old he is and how he's eighteen and an adult and oh, here it comes again, that weird thing that's she thinks is fear seeping steadily into her like cold water running down her back, the fear that he'll forget her and she'll end up all alone like she was before with the just the memory of the sound of his laugh and the brown of his eyes and how he holds a baseball bat and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes and - 

         “Anna?”

        Jonathan has concern painted all over his face again, and oh the feeling of déjà vu, haven't they done this already tonight? But there's something else there, and even though Anna's never been great at reading human emotion and expressions and body language (she's actually more of a talker, really), she thinks it might just be understanding, and she really hopes he understands, because for all the time she spends talking and talking and talking she doesn't think she'll really be able to get across how even though she's technically only met Jonathan three times he is really very important to her.

         “They still have chimneys at college, right?” she says weakly, and he laughs, the sound tinged with sadness. 

         “Sure they will,” he smiles, punching her shoulder lightly as he does so.  “And even if they don't, I doubt that'll stop you.”

         “Really?”

         “Oh, certainly. What with your desperation to see me - ”

        Anna colours a faint pink.  “I am not desperate - ”

         “It's okay if you are,” he smirks.  “You wouldn't be the first.”

         “Jonathan - !”

         “Mhm?”

         “I am not desperate!”

         “Sure you're not.”

         “I'm not!”

         “Anna, I can practically smell it dripping off you - ”

         “Says the boy who stays up specially to bake me cookies every year!”

        Jonathan's blush and lack of a retort is enough to let a distinct feeling of satisfaction settling in Anna's chest. Oh, she is so going to use that whenever she can.

_________________________________________________________________

a/n: I'M SORRY THIS IS A BIT LATE BUT HEY HI HELLO HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!! i hope you all had a great one and you don't mind reading on despite the most wonderful time of the year being over this time round :) 

so is it just me or anna and jonathan getting a bit flirty??? hmmmm FOR THE RECORD I TOTALLY STARTED THIS CHAPTER WITH COMPLETELY INNOCENT INTENTIONS LIKE IT WAS JUST GOING TO BE FRIENDLY BANTER BUT NEITHER OF THEM WOULD LISTEN TO ME LITERALLY IT'S AS THOUGH THEY JUST WROTE THEMSELVES anna is definitely not as cute as innocent as some of u might think im totally serious

but anyway yes drop me a comment tell me what you think  AND WHAT YOU GOT FOR CHRISTMAS and i shall try and update asap :)) 

love you all! 

- mariam