Snowed in with the Enemy

Cold Relapse

❄ Camille ❄

Lucinda called again just after lunch. The heater had finally started to push out real warmth, and for the first time in days, my fingers didn’t feel like they belonged to someone else. I sat on the couch with my phone pressed to my ear, watching the front doors as if I could will the snow to move.

“They are still working on it,” Lucinda told me. Her voice sounded strained, but determined. “They have cleared the main road enough for vehicles, but the side streets are a mess. The guys with the plow are on their way to the building. It’s taking longer because the drifts are thick,”

“How much longer?” I asked as I tried to keep my tone calm.

“Soon,” she promised. “Cam, I’m serious. They are doing everything they can,” I swallowed.

“Ok...yeah, I get it. Just...tell them to hurry,”

“I already did,” she replied. “Are you warm?” I glanced at Sebastian across the lounge. He stood by the reception, checking the candles as if he didn’t want to look at me for too long.

“Um...yeah...the power coming on helped a lot,”

“Good. If anything changes, call me right away,”

“I will,” I said, and I meant it. I was just about to ask her again, or actually, I was just about to plead with her about hurrying them up, when the light suddenly went off. There wasn't a flicker or a warning, just sudden darkness. The heater died with a soft click, and the soft hum of power stopped. The silence hit, thick and sudden. “Lucy?” I checked my phone, and my chest tightened. The signal had gone out as well.

“Bad luck,” Sebastian said as he sat down on the couch. The cold poured back into the lounge like someone had opened the door and let the snow in. I didn’t even hesitate as I closed the distance between us on the couch and pressed into his side like I belonged there. My teeth started to chatter almost immediately. Sebastian didn’t speak. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me in under the blanket he had left out. His hand settled on my hip, firm and warm through fabric. We both knew the routine now.

“Damn it,” I muttered. Sebastian reached for his phone and checked it, then put it down.

“Signal is down again,”

“It was fine a second ago,” I snapped as my anger flared.

“The storm eased, but it could be overloaded...or whatever,” I stared into the fading darkness around us. I was hungry, tired, and frustrated. Sebastian pressed his forehead against the side of my head for a brief second. “Breathe,” and that is exactly what I did. I hated that he had that ability to help ease the raging storm inside of me. He tightened the blanket and guided us lower on the couch until we lay side by side, like we had on the worst nights. My hand slid automatically under his shirt, finding bare skin. He flinched, then exhaled and let it happen. “You are freezing,” he murmured.

“So are you,” I whispered back. We didn’t argue. We didn’t have the energy. The dark settled around us again while the wind picked up outside and scraped against the windows. Somewhere deep in the office, a pipe creaked. Exhaustion pulled at me, heavy and fast, like my body had been waiting for permission to shut down. Sebastian’s breathing slowed beside me. His arm stayed locked around my waist, and I drifted off. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep. My body trembled from the cold, and a part of me kept waiting to be rescued. Or for the power to come back on. With that being said, I hadn’t expected to wake up as cold as I had. My teeth chattered hard enough to hurt. My hands were numb, and the blanket hadn’t done anything. Sebastian was awake too. His eyes were open in the dark, unfocused, like he had been staring at nothing for a while. His arm stayed around me, but his fingers were stiff. “How long?” I whispered. He glanced at his phone, and the screen lit briefly, weak and pale.

“Three hours,”

“Power still out?” I already knew.

“Yes,” he replied, and I swallowed.

“Signal?” he lifted his phone, then mine, checking both. One shaky bar flickered, then disappeared.

“Bad,” I let out a shaky breath and pressed my face into his chest. The warmth we stole from each other wasn’t enough anymore. It kept us from shaking apart, but it didn’t feel safe. We lay there, listening to the storm, until a thought I had been avoiding crept back in. I lifted my head slightly, and in the faint light of his phone, his face looked carved from shadow, sharp and tired.

“Sebastian,” I whispered.

“What?” his voice sounded rough, and I hesitated. But then I forced it out.

“Why don’t you want to kiss me?” I asked, and his breathing changed. A neutral expression covered his emotions as he looked at me.

“Kissing is intimate,” he answered simply. “And we are not intimate,” the words hit like a slap. I pushed back a little, enough to look at him.

“That’s your reason?”

“Yes,” he replied, calm and firm. My chest burned with something I hated.

“But we were intimate,”

“We used each other, Camille. For warmth. For survival,” I wanted to argue with him. But I knew he was right. Kissing was intimate. For me, s*x was intimate, but maybe for him, kissing was a line he wasn't prepared to cross. I hated his answer because it made sense. I hated it because it felt like he was keeping me at arm’s length while holding me as if I mattered. I swallowed hard as another question filled my mind. This time, I didn’t hesitate to ask.

“So what are we, then?” Sebastian didn’t answer immediately. His arm stayed around me, but his eyes looked distant, controlled by sheer effort.

“Two people trapped in a storm,” he finally murmured. My throat tightened. I wanted to say something reckless. I wanted to tell him to stop pretending this was nothing. I wanted to suggest kissing just to prove he couldn’t keep drawing lines in the dark. But again, he wasn't wrong. We hated each other. We were enemies. Just because we got off on each other didn’t mean we were suddenly in a relationship. Still, my lips parted, ready to beg him to kiss me. But then we heard it. A sound that pulled us apart and made both of us jump to our feet.

It was the sound of voices.

Faint at first, like the storm was playing tricks. Then clearer and then came the scrape of metal, the thud of something heavy hitting packed snow.

“They are outside,” I whispered as my heart started to race. Sebastian moved to the window and pressed his hand to the glass as he tried to peer outside.

“I can’t see much, but I can see movement,” relief slammed into me so hard I almost laughed. Lucinda had done it. Someone had come. We were going to get out. And yet, under the relief, something else stirred. A quiet disappointment I didn’t want to admit existed. Because rescue meant daylight. It meant doors opening. It meant stepping away from this strange bubble where my enemy’s arms around me had become normal. Sebastian turned back toward me and smiled. “Get ready. As soon as those doors open, we get the hell out of here,” I nodded as I swallowed the lump in my throat. Help was here. And the worst part was that a small, selfish piece of me wished it wasn’t.

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