“Jesus Christ.”

Mitch murmured, looking out the window, the howl of the wind rattling the frame, as the snow piled just below the planter box outside, the dirt frozen. He walked back over to you, who had your back to him as you pulled a thermal over your head.

“We’re not going anywhere tonight.” He said shaking his head, and looking at the one bed, sighing.

“I’ll take the floor.”