12 Nights of Christmas (Jake x Johnnie)

Night Seven

My phone rang, waking me up from a sleep I didn't know had come over me. I answered it without looking at who was calling. "Johnnie? This is Jake."

"I don't want another present," I groaned. "Just leave me alone, dude. Take a fucking hint." I went to hang up, but he said something that stopped me. 

"I'm not giving you another present. You said you didn't want my charity. This phone call is the present." He swallowed audibly. "You might hate me, but I'm not ready to watch you die."

"I'm not gonna-"

"You don't know that. You don't know what you'll do to yourself. You could poison yourself. You could lose too much blood. I'm not gonna stand idly by just because you don't want the help." That was when I hung up on him. 

"Take a fucking hint," I groaned. The phone rang again, and I let it. I went about my business, deciding it was high time I finally dust some furniture around the house. I watched my phone light up as I put the duster together. I listened to it ring as I walked into the bedroom. I felt it buzz even a room away. I sank into my bed as I could practically taste the urgency of Jake's continuous phone calls. I clutched my pillow, wanting to disappear. It wasn't that I hated Jake's charity, it was that I hated he was right. I really did need help, but I was beyond help. I was beyond that point.

I gave up after a while, deciding that ignoring him wasn't making him go away. I answered the phone, hearing something on the other line that didn't sound like words. "Are you crying?" I asked him.

"Please just answer me," He pleaded. His voice was barely above a whisper anymore. "Please just answer me and show me you're alive. I can't be the reason you died."

"I'm alive, Jake. Don't cry yet. I'm still alive." I squeezed the phone in my hand as if that make might some sort of difference. As if it might reassure him somehow when I did it. "I'm still here."

"I'm sorry. I've fallen in love with you." I could hear him biting his nails. "I can't ignore you."

"Jake, you fell in love with the wrong person." I was shaking my head. "I won't do you any good. I'll just give you anxiety, I promise you."

"I don't care. Don't scare me like that." He took a shaky breath. "Can I come over again tomorrow? I have to give you your eighth present."

"Did you get mine yet?" I asked him. "Or is it still in the mail?"

"Still in the mail. Should be here any day now." He sighed. "I bet I'll love it, whatever it is."

"I sure hope so." I chuckled softly. "Don't worry about me, Jake. I'm not worth it."

"You are to me. I don't care what anyone else says, you're worth worrying about to me." I heard him mumble something more. I couldn't be sure if he said, "That's enough for me."