a/n i haven't updated this in a while...wow HAHAH
but thanks for the lovely reviews! :) you guys are great feel free to leave more :)
004/100
Insides
There's something about storms that Toby has always admired. They are beautiful in the most abstract, possible way. Most scorn storms, and curse their existence, but yet, there are still a few that admire them. They forgive them for ruining their plans, and enjoy the exquisite beauty unfolding in the sky above them. It sort of shows that beauty is indeed just an interpretation.
"Where did this storm even come from?" he watches his fiancé's finger's recoil from the curtain. She shakes her head, exasperated, "it was beautiful out this morning."
It was in the mid seventies; the sun out, and a slight breeze lacing through the trees. Toby can't deny that he didn't enjoy that. In fact, that's his ideal weather, but he liked storms too.
"It's okay," he supplies, releasing his hold from the curtain. "We can just find something to eat here."
"All we have is cereal and lunch meat. But that's of no use to us because we don't have any milk, nor bread," she sighs, her shoulders slumping.
"I'm sure we have more than that," he argues.
She gives him a pointed look. "Fine, look. If you can make something magically appear, I'll be estatic, but I am going to go find some candles," she places her hands on his chest for a second before departing.
He takes another glass outside and is greeted with a growl of thunder.
The only bad thing about storms is power outages, and if the weatherman is right on the sereneness of this storm, they'll likely be without it.
He goes to find something for them to eat in the kitchen, and realizes that Spencer was right. They really do have nothing to eat. They've both been so busy lately with everything that a shop to the grocery store would throw their whole schedule around. This is the first time he's had dinner with Spencer in awhile. In fact, he doesn't really even recall the last time they had sat down together for a meal. With both of them free of work/schooling/whatever else, they were going to go out to dinner tonight. But with this storm…
He searches the pantries and finds some Kraft's Macoroni and Cheese that he didn't even know they had because Spencer usually disregards anything that has already been prepared to eat (or another name for it would be anything artificial) but he figures this will have to do because there is literally nothing else to eat.
But then he remembers the absence of milk in their company. He sighs, and shoves the box of macaroni and cheese back onto the shelf. His eyes flicker to a jar of peanut butter, and he decides to screw it, and picks it up. He grabs two spoons, along with the box of cereal and bag of bologna, and sets it on the kitchen table.
Spencer is still off on her quest for material, so he goes back into their kitchen to (hopelessly) look for some more food to satisfy their empty stomachs.
He finds a small bag of pretzels (one of those 100 calorie snack pack ones) and a small box of raisins. It's not much, but, it will have to do. He grabs some napkins, and two cups to fill with water.
After he is finished, he sets the table so it looks somewhat presentably, and waits for Spencer's return.
She soon returns with an abundance of candles, lighters, and flashlights. Also, a blanket. Even though it is summer.
"A blanket?" he questions after she sets the supplies on the end of the table.
"What? I get cold easily. You know that."
"It's summertime," he states, incredulously.
"It's sixty degrees outside," she counters.
"True," he agrees.
She grins, her eyes transferring over to the other end of the table. She laughs, "I don't mean to say I told you so, but, I told you so."
He grabs her hand, and forces her to take a seat in front of one of the two plates. He takes the seat next to her.
His hand wands over the peanut butter and bologna, "protein," then the cereal, "fiber, and grain," then the raisins, "fruit."
"What about the pretzels?" she asks, amused.
"We can dip it into the peanut butter."
She laughs again.
"I know it's not some fancy European cuisine, or anything, but—"
"It's perfect," she supplies.
He smiles.
A second later, the room is pitch black, only illuminating from the lightning that strikes outside.
They quickly bring out their phones, and Spencer groans, "I knew we should have lit these the second I got up here."
They light the candles, and place them around the room, and on the table, before diving into their dinner.
"As amazing as this dinner is, I think we can't put off the grocery store any longer."
He smiles, sucking on a spoon of peanut butter, "should we make a list?"
"Of what? The things we don't need? That would certainly be shorter…"
He grins. "Things could be worse. We could not have coffee, but what am I saying? You would never let that happen."
She smirks, "are you ever going to stop making fun of me for that or?" she dips a pretzel in the peanut butter.
He snickers, popping a raisin in his mouth.
A round of lightning illuminates the room, and she brings her arms around her.
"I hate storms," she sighs.
"I like them," he voices. "They're…oddly peaceful."
"I've just always hated them," she comments. "I remember once in first or second grade, there was this really bad storm due to some hurricane, and the power struck out, and was terrified. Because my parents left me home alone, and my nanny wasn't scheduled to come in that day, and Melissa was at her friend's or something. And it was just…awful. I just sat in my room, and watched my door like a hawk."
He takes her hand, and his thumb circles her palm in comfortable movements.
"Ever since then, I've kind of just despised them. And then there was the whole Ali thing, with the storm, and then Emily… and then that time where you—," she doesn't have to finish for him to know what she is referring to. "Me and storms just don't get along well."
He brings her palm up to his lips, and nuzzles his mouth over her palm, his face lit by the candlelight.
She offers a small smile.
He sets her hand back on the table, and links his fingers between hers. "Maybe I can change your mind about storms. Replace the bad memories with good ones."
"How so?"
"My mom used to find ways to entertain me during blackouts."
A wider smile spreads, but it is still acute. "I'm intrigued," she murmurs.
He grins.
…
Toby tells her all the things he used to do with his mom during black outs, and most of them are activities for children (surprise, surprise) but still manage to sound appealing. He tells her that she can choose whichever activity sounds the most entertaining. Ultimately, she decides on building a fort.
They gather material from around the house using their flashlights, and set up base at the end of their bed. They cover the ground with blankets, and the sides with pillows, and use chairs to hold up the sheet ceiling above them. Spencer shamelessly flirts with him, asking him to help her out, since he's a carpenter/architect, and all.
When they are done, they lie on their backs, and stare at the white cotton ceiling above them.
"I used to make forts with Melissa, but we'd always end up fighting, and it would always end up falling apart," she turns on her side to stare at him. He does the same. "But this is really nice," she glances around. "We make a good team," her voice is light.
"We do," he agrees, moving towards her. His hand snuggles around her side, and he places a tender kiss on her lips, which she instantly responds to. She leans closer to him, and pushes her hand up his shirt, making it gather up on the sides.
They roll over so Spencer is on her back, sort of, anyway, and Toby is hovering over her. She is sort of cleaning up, and his hand is at the small of her back to keep her balance. Her shirt is off before his, which is rare, but his does not come off long after.
She parts for a second, smiling tenderly at him. His eyes make her whole entire stomach inflate with feeling. "We're taking an innocent child activity, and making it…dirty," she decides, amused.
"It's not dirty," he states, his lips moving to her chest. He leaves deep kisses along her collarbone as he speaks. "It's incredible." Kiss. "Amazing." Kiss. "Love," he meets her eyes.
She smiles, "then lustful," she murmurs softly, her lips close to his, almost touching. "And sinful."
Their eyelids tickle each other as they blink, "we've been sinning for awhile," he amusedly murmurs.
She smiles before meeting his lips for a kiss.
"Maybe blackouts aren't so bad," she decides.
