1. Lissy
Chapter 1
Lissy
I stare out the car window, the landscape a blur of white and gray. The snowfall thickens, each flake like a tiny whisper against the glass. I feel a twinge of anxiety, my heart racing a bit too fast. Erik's driving is too fast but somehow still careful, the roads are treacherous, and I can't help but wonder if this trip is a mistake. The scent of his cologne mixes with the musty smell of the car, a strangely comforting combination. I wish we would have all just driven together, I would've felt better knowing I had my girl Breanna in the truck with me.
An alert flashes across my phone:
BLIZZARD WARNING - in effect until 9am
“Shit. This isn’t good.”
I flash the message over to Erik quickly, I don’t want his eyes off the road for too long.
*Beep*Beep*
“No. No. No, no, nuh, nuh, no. This can’t be happening. Not now. ”
“What?! What’s wrong?” Erik asks.
His knuckles turning white with the grip he has on his steering wheel. Even in Four-wheel drive, the truck still wants to kick out, and sway on the road at times.
“My phone just went out of service. We won’t be able to call Austin and Bre to tell them when we get to the cabin. Ugh, I knew it!”
“Knew what?”
“We should’ve just waited for them, and all drove up together. There’s a blizzard, and they’re never going to make it up the road in Austin’s car! You can barely make it in your truck.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. And so will we for that matter. The driveway is right here.”
We finally reach the cabin, and it stands there, solitary in a sea of white, like something out of a fairytale. I step out, and the cold hits me like a slap to the face. Erik's right behind me, his presence both irritating and reassuring. "This place looks like it's straight out of a horror movie," I quip, trying to hide my unease with humor. He laughs, and the sound cuts through the cold, making me feel, for just a moment, that maybe everything will be okay. “Has nobody been here since we were over spring break?” I ask. “This summer was spent mostly on cruises, or in the Maldives. I don’t think my parents even remember they have this little rinky-dink cabin anymore.”
Inside the cabin, a warmth envelops us, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. I drop my bag, taking in the rustic charm of the place. There's a sense of nostalgia, a reminder of simpler times.
I flip the switch next to the door to turn on the light, and nothing happens. Flipping it on and off repeatedly, as if something different would happen, I give up and announce my findings.
“The power’s out.”
“Yeah, I tried over here too. Can you look around for some paper to burn?” Erik asks.
I start pacing the small room looking for anything that wouldn’t be missed. That’s when I spot an old phone book sitting underneath one of the end tables. I grab it up, and walk back over to Erik who is already hatcheting apart a piece of firewood into smaller pieces. “This is a relic, but I bet it’ll burn.” “Great, just set it right there, and I will get us a fire going. Take the chill out of the air.” Erik stacks the fire into a little log cabin, the solitary match tossed in the middle of the square easily catches the paper and kindling ablaze. He runs his hands together in front of the expanding fire, and the crackling flames cast flickering shadows on the walls. Despite myself, I feel a sense of peace settling over me, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly.
Erik crouches by the fire, his focus on the growing flames, and I can't help but watch the way his muscles move under his shirt. The fire crackles and pops, filling the cabin with a warm, comforting sound. I pull a chair closer, the scent of burning wood mixing with the faint traces of his cologne. "You always were good at making fires," I remark, a smile tugging at my lips despite the situation. He looks up, his eyes catching the light. "Yeah, well, it's one of my more useful skills," he says, a hint of pride in his voice.
I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the warmth slowly seeping into my bones. Outside, the wind howls, a stark reminder of the storm we're trapped in. Erik stands and stretches, his shirt lifting slightly, and I quickly avert my eyes. "I'm going to check if there are any candles or flashlights around," he says, his voice echoing slightly in the small space. I nod, watching him disappear into the other room. The silence settles around me, punctuated only by the sound of the wind and the occasional creak of the cabin.
When Erik returns, he's carrying a couple of candles and a small flashlight. "Found these in the drawer," he says, setting them on the table. He lights the candles, and their flickering glow casts a soft, intimate light in the room. I can see the relief in his expression, a contrast to the usual cocky demeanor he shows the world. "This should help until the power comes back," he adds, sitting down across from me. Our eyes meet, and there's an unspoken acknowledgment of our situation - alone, together, in a way we never expected.