Hawthorne | The Inheritance Games One Shots

|If We Make It Through December|| Jameson Hawthorne|

(A short story about a girl struggling to provide for her family this Christmas. It's just fluff, not really much plot. If you're reading this before christmas, hope you have a great day!! Merry christmas to you all <3)

The cold winter wind whips around the corner of the café as I step out into the nipping evening, wrapping my thick winter jacket tighter around me. I glance down at my phone: 12:37am. My shift at the diner has just ended. The streets are quieter now, the glow from the other late opening business windows casting long shadows across the white snow. Christmas decorations and lights line the streets, but this year they just feel distant, almost unfamiliar.

I've learned a lot in the past few months. I've learned how to put on a brave face, how to smile through exhaustion, how to make a dollar last. But tonight, I feel it heavier. The constant weight towing down on my heart. Mom's condition is getting worse, I can't lie anymore and pretend things are fine. The bills are piling up, it's getting hard to even afford dinner, and the thought of Christmas feels like a plain slap to the face right now. I can't afford presents. I mean I could, but it would mean missing out on meals for a week, and I don't have a week. Which means no gifts for Mom, no gifts for my little siblings. Not for Jameson. And definitely not for me.

I pull out my phone again, my thumb hovering over his name. The text I've written and rewritten a million times remains typed out, but unsent.

I can't do this to you. It isn't fair on you. I'm sorry.

I'd never want him to pity me. Jameson is everything I'm not: rich, charming, positive and flirty. His family is a whirlwind of opulence, endless feasts of caviar, designer clothes, and fancy cars. It feels like a whole different world when we're together. 

We've only been together for a few months, and while I love him, I can't help but wonder what he would think if he knew just hot bad things have gotten. He knows I'm not as wealthy as he is. He knows I live in a small one bedroom apartment with five younger siblings and my Mom. He knows Mom is sick. But what he doesn't know is I've dropped out of school to work two full time jobs in order to pay for the medical bills.

I force the phone back into my back and trot through the thick snow towards the bus stop. The gentle snowfall has began again, the night is growing blisteringly colder. I'm not worried though, I'm used to walking in the coldness late at night, I'm considering this fortunate that the bus is still running so I don't need to walk tonight like usual.

Just as my feet reach the bus stop, the revving of an expensive car's engine roars alongside me. I turn with worry, my shoulders relaxing again once I spot the sports car rolling up to the curb. The window are rolled down, and there he is, grinning like he doesn't have a care in the world.

"Need a ride, Baby?" Jameson's voice is laced with amusement, his signature coy smirk in place. His hair is messy, as if he's just woken up, his white t-shirt is tight around his biceps, the gold of his watch gleams in the dim light.

I hesitate, my heart picking up. I don't want to get into the car. I don't want to accept help for him. It starts with a ride, and then soon enough he's paying off the medical bills altogether.

"I'm fine, Jamie." I offer a gentle smile. "The bus will be here soon."

"Ari, it's freezing out here." He laughs, seeming to think I'm just joking around. He leans over and opens the passenger door for me.. "Get in. Let me at least take you home. It's Christmas Eve, for God's sake." He shivers.

I shake my head, sighing and looking beyond the car. Beyond him. "I told you, I don't want to be a charity case. I'm fine. Really."

My boyfriend's smile falters and his eyes scan me once up and down, then his hand reaches out the window and snakes around my cold hip.

"Hey, you know I spoke to some kids from your school the other day? They said you haven't been around in months." He raises an eyebrow, his voice soften and delicate. "Ariana, I've seen the way you've been working. I know you try to hide it, but I'm not blind. You barely have time to sleep, let alone take care of yourself. Let me help."

My chest tightens. I know exactly where this is going, a place I promised myself I'd never let it go to. He doesn't understand. He'll never understand. He's going to offer me money, or pay off the bills, and it would all change. Everything would change. 

I'd be in an infinite debt to him, I'd have to live knowing he helped. He's have lifelong leverage. It would just end in a fight.

"I'm fine." I repeat, retrieving his arm from my waist, kissing the knuckles and then dropping it. "Please, don't. I really don't want your help."

Jameson doesn't speak for a beat. Or move. He just blinks, processing my words.

Eventually, he sighs, a deft hand swiping through his messy hair. "Ariana... I'm not offering you money. I'm offering you a ride. A warm car. And some company. But if you don't want that..." He shrugs, his playful demeanour fading just enough for me to see the frustration lurking beneath.

I feel an ache in my heart, and a tear dripping from my cheek. I can't let him see me break down. I can't break down. I swat away the tear barely seconds after it falls.

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me." I whisper vulnerably, my voice barely audible. "I don't want you to pay for things that I should be handling on my own. I can't.. I can't allow any favours." I dictate.

"Ariana," Jameson interrupts, his tone sharp, but not unkind. "You think I'm offering you money, don't you? You think I'm offering to pay for your bills. But I'm not. You know that of I wanted to I could have paid off these debts months ago for you. And I wanted to, but you told me not to. So I didn't. But that's not what this is about. I just want to be here for you."

I meet his eyes, mine glassy under the flashing christmas lights. He isn't offering money. He's just offering himself, and that's more than enough.

"I don't know how to do this." I confess quietly. "You have everything, and I have nothing. I can't let you see how bad things are. I don't want to be the person who takes from you."

Jameson's hand gently cups her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that escapes despite my best efforts to hide it. "I'm not asking you to take anything from me, Ariana. I'm asking to be with you. No strings attached. No pity. Just... us."

I search in his gorgeous green eyes for something. Some kind of mockery or anger. But all I see is sincerity and adoration. Jameson isn't perfect, but in this moment, he's exactly what I need.

Begrudgingly I round the car, slipping into the warmth of the expensive car. My eyes stay planted on the unmoving road. But he stares at me expectantly. 

"I really have no clue how to handle this." I admit, my voice trembling and breaking. 

"You just have to let me in. And I promise, I'll never let you go through this alone." He whispers, gently cupping my cheek and stroking his thumb up and down my cheekbone.

"You and me." He states firmly, pressing our lips together for a gently peck. "You and me." I repeat in agreement.