The house is quiet—a little too quiet, maybe.

Power went out about an hour ago, and with Wabang’s incredible infrastructure, there’s no telling when it’ll get turned back on.

A freak storm tore through the better part of the state, so now you’re stuck, fully in the dark. During a storm.

Perry’s room is the warmest in the house.

The two of you have been sort of dancing around one another, him still grieving Rebecca and you managing a loss of your own—it drew you together, and it’s been limbo ever since.

The bed’s too big for one person, but a little too small for whatever this is.

Perry’s arm keeps brushing yours, whether or not it’s intentional is up for debate; not like either of you are doing much talking.

“Could’ve gone to the couch,” he murmurs, voice low. Not really an offer, but not not an offer, either.

You dismiss him with a shake of your head.

He shifts a little—uneasy, even now. You can barely make out his expression in the darkness, but you know it by heart. Pensive, restrained, like he’ll break you if he so much as breathes too heavy.

It’s warm under the covers with him, and for a moment, you’re not thinking about the storm.