Eloise
I fall asleep during the last hour of the drive, lulled into a dreamless state, absolutely defenseless to the heated seats. Dominic wakes me up when we have parked in the unlit driveway of a behemoth cabin—Jacobean stained wood, a black skillion roof attached to the roof of a flat garage, and a black door with the address written in fluid, round white letters beside it. The arched bayfront window is the selling feature; the cabin has a lot of windows, and therefore will have a lot of natural light. I can't wait to see how it looks in a few hours if we are lucky enough to have a sunny morning.
All the other cabins are seemingly nonexistent with the absence of neighboring illumination, so once Dominic shuts off his car and the headlights disappear we are enshrouded in absolute dark
