Snowed in with the Enemy

Morning Static

❄ Camille ❄

I woke up warm, which made no sense in a building with no power. For a second, I thought I was in my own bed. Then the wind slammed the front windows, and Sterling Routes Travel groaned like it might crack, and reality rushed back. The couch dug into my shoulder, and my hair stuck to my face. I turned, and the space beside me was empty.

Sebastian was gone.

My chest tightened until I saw him in the lobby, a dark shape against the glass doors. Candlelight flickered over his back. He was shirtless, hands on the handle, shoulders and arms working as he tried to force the door open. I sat up too fast, and the cold snapped at me. The warmth I had been clinging to faded the moment I moved.

“Sebastian,” I called. “Stop!” he pulled again anyway. The door shifted a fraction, then stopped. Snow scraped outside with a heavy, ugly sound. “Stop,” I repeated, my voice sharper. “You are going to break it,” he glanced over his shoulder. His eyes looked tired, his jaw rough with stubble.

“It’s still blocked,”

“I can see that,” he let go, flexed his fingers like they hurt, and lifted his phone. “Still no signal. And the power’s coming back in small bursts before it dies again. Lights flickered in the hallway,” right on cue, the EXIT sign buzzed and dimmed, then brightened. Overhead panels blinked once and went black.

“So we are still cut off,” I muttered. He started toward the lounge, bare feet quiet on the carpet. I forced myself to look at his face, not his chest, not the way his muscles shifted when he moved.

“You slept?” he asked.

“A little,” I admitted. “You were right about body heat,” something crossed his expression, quick and unreadable.

“Good. Now we plan,” I dragged my coat on over my blouse. It barely helped. My hands shook as I stood.

“I’m making coffee,” I announced, because I needed something normal and something warm. In the kitchenette, the air was colder. I checked the little gas burner. The canister still had pressure. I filled the pot and lit it. The flame caught with a soft whoosh. Behind me, Sebastian spoke low.

“We need more than coffee, Camille,”

“It’s a start,” I snapped.

“If the storm continues, we will freeze,” he said softly. “Or we will run out of food. Either way, we are in trouble,” the bluntness hit hard. He wasn’t trying to scare me. He was treating this like an operation's problem. That was his default. I mixed the instant coffee and handed him a cup. “Thanks,” he murmured. I sipped and stared at the counter until my breathing smoothed. My mind kept jumping to the outside world. No one knew we were stuck in here. And there was no way to let anyone know.

“How long can storms like this last?” I asked.

“Everford can get buried for a day,” he answered. “Sometimes more,” my stomach sank. “But we will get through it. We just have to use what we have,” I hated how his calm seemed to steady me.

“Fine,” I agreed. “We search the offices,” the building proved him right. The lights flickered again, on for a heartbeat, off the next. A printer made a strangled half-noise and died. Sebastian pulled on his shirt, then his coat.

“Right. Let’s split up. We look for anything useful...flashlights, batteries…”

“And food,” I added, and he nodded once.

“Meet back here. Twenty minutes,” I kept my phone flashlight off to save battery and moved down the corridor, counting doors by memory. Most were locked. Margaret Sterling’s office wasn’t.

Of course, it wasn’t.

I pushed inside and almost laughed from relief. I had completely forgotten that she had a private bathroom. A fully equipped bathroom with a shower. The idea of hot water felt impossible, but the room alone meant privacy and warmth. Against the wall stood a tall dresser. I opened the drawers and found neatly folded clothes, like Margaret had prepared for emergencies and never mentioned it. Sweatpants. Hoodies. Thermal tops. Socks.

“Yes,” I whispered. I grabbed a pair of gray sweatpants and a navy hoodie that would fit Sebastian, folded them, and set them on a chair near the bathroom door. Then I turned on the sink. The pipes groaned low and long, but then suddenly, water started to flow. I blinked and then tried the hot tap. Warm water spilled out like it had been waiting for me, and my throat tightened with relief. I didn’t waste another second as I hurriedly removed my clothes and turned the water on in the shower. A moment later, the soft steam wrapped around me, and I stepped under the steady stream. The heat hit my scalp and shoulders, and I nearly sagged with it. I washed quickly, but I lingered under the stream anyway, letting the chill ease from my bones. For a few minutes, I didn’t have to think about the doors buried in snow or the dead phones or the man outside this room. When I finished, I shut the water off and reached for a towel. I then remembered that in my haste to take a shower, I had forgotten to take one out of the closet. As I stepped out, water dripped down my arms and from my hair. It was at that moment that the door opened.

For a moment, I came face-to-face with Sebastian.

Neither of us moved, and I watched as his eyes roamed down my body before he turned sharply and faced the wall.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I came to check if there was...anyway...sorry,” my face burned hot enough to fight the chill, but I pushed that aside as I quickly grabbed a towel from the closet as well as a change of clothes.

“Um…I will get changed in the office...you shower, there is still enough hot water,” I said before I brushed past him. “Oh...and there are some clothes for you,” I pointed at the folded items before I closed the bathroom door. The office was cold, and I shivered as I dried off as quickly as I could. I pulled on the warm pants, then the hoodie, and then a pair of thick socks. I towel-dried my hair as much as possible while I listened to the sound of the shower. I couldn’t believe that Sebastian had just seen me naked.

And the warmth on my skin wasn’t from the shower.

❄❄❄