12 Days of Christmas (5000 word oneshot)

Fourth Day of Christmas - Thursday 17th

11:37am
"Hey there, Spanish drunkard." Daniel greeted as I met him at our favourite café.
I rolled my eyes at him as we sat at a table, ordering our drinks, "Don't mention it. Ever, please".
He huffed a laugh, fiddling with the serviettes on the table, "So, how are you then?"
I shrugged, "I don't know. Christmassy. I always have that song in my head."
He frowned, "Which one?"
"You know, Mariah Carey."
He slowly grinned, his teeth glistening as he opened his mouth.
"Oh no, don-"
"I don't want a lot for Christmas."
"Stop!"
"There is just one thing I need."
"Oh my god, Daniel."
"I don't care about the presents, underneath the Christmas tree."
"You're so loud." I said, pressing my palms to my cheeks. It's embarrassing. His voice is beautiful, and now people are listening.
His gaze softened as he took one of my hands and held it to his chest, "I just want you for my own."
My face is hot. "Stop, seriously."
"More than you could ever know," his hold on my hand tightened, his finger brushing along my knuckles. It tingled my skin.
"Make my wish come true," he held the long note expectantly, waiting for me with a raised eyebrow.
I stared back at him, "You know I don't sing!" I exclaimed, pulling my hand out of his grasp.
Daniel pouted his lips, folding his arms, "You ruin everything. You can't even finish a song."
"I do not ruin everything!" I exclaimed right as my phone vibrated in my pocket.
Daniel nodded, "Who is it?"
I looked up at him, "It's Joe! He's asking if I want to come over to a small party Saturday night."
Daniel's face remained blank, "Oh," he grabbed the serviette again, tearing at the edge, "and? Are you gonna go?"
"Of course!" I said happily, sending a reply. I leant forward over the table, catching his gaze, "Only if you come with me."
He glared at me, "No."
"Please?"
"No."
I sighed, widening my eyes, "Come with me. Please? I'd be lost without you." It's true. I'd never tell him that though. I'd never tell him how much I rely on him.
His eyes were pensive. Our gaze was uninterrupted until the waitress brought our drinks over.
"Fine," he held up a finger, "Only this once 'cause I hate the guy."
My shoulders slumped. Daniel not approving made it harder, "Why do you hate him?"
He just shook his head and picked up his iced drink, sipping at the rim, "Never mind me. You picked him, it's your choice."
I left it at that. I feared that if I tried to argue it would just upset him more.