In Limbo - Part I

10:34 - Norway - January

She wakes to a world blanketed in white, the cloudless sky a soft, gentle grey. Albeit beautiful, it's cold, and staying in bed between her thick quilted blankets seems a far better idea than getting out to turn up the thermostat. So she snuggles deeper into a fortress of Egyptian silk and plush pillows, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

It's only then that she realises the bed is suspiciously lonely, with no warm limbs to tangle in between her own, no firm, wiry arms to hold her, nor stroke her hair.

"Yukihira?"

Peering through the open door of her bedroom, she calls out to him again. There's no answer.

She lets out a choice expletive and sits up, jostling sheets and pillows. Once bundled up in three and a half layers, she makes her way downstairs, a pair of Yukihira's socks over her feet and another used as gloves. There's a pot of coffee ready, and a handwritten note beside a small jug of milk reads: "Drink me."

"Yukihira?"

She finds him out at the front door of their little rental cottage, pink-cheeked and hard at work. He glances up with a grin as she exits, waving lightly despite the shovel he's currently occupied with. "I thought you'd like to sleep in. Are you hungry? I made ricotta hotcakes."

"They'll be frozen solid by now." Out in the open, it's plain to see that they're not going anywhere. Their car is half-covered by mounds of the stuff, which is piled up to half the windows on the lower floor. She hands off her coffee and watches as Yukihira takes a long drink, the steam rising to paint his face an even warmer shade.

Despite everything that's happened between them since their high-school 'break-up', she has to concede she's touched. It's common knowledge that Yukihira has a habit of taking good care of the people around him –especially when 'people' constitutes one Nakiri Erina. She loves it. She hates it. She wishes he'd let her do the same. Especially since now they're meant to be 'together' again, whatever the hell that means.

"The batter's resting on the countertop, so no, they aren't frozen solid." He blinks, as if suddenly aware that she isn't really listening, then arches a brow before reaching out to brush a fleck of snow off her cheek. "What is it? Nakiri, you okay?"

She snatches back her coffee. There's no way she's letting on how damn vulnerable he makes her feel – not when they've got a real problem on their hands. "Nothing. I guess this means we're missing our dinner reservations tonight? Did we really just make plans to meet halfway across the world for some alone time, only to be snowed in?"

"It's not that bad, being snowed in. We could keep each other warm. "Yukihira lets out a sheepish chuckle, then gestures towards the narrow walkway he's managed to shovel through. "And anyway, the good news is that we can still walk to the village and get what we need to make a world class dinner."

"In this mishmash of things? I don't think so." And she knows she's right – two knobbly jumpers and an old ratty cardigan do not an outfit make. She'd packed for late autumn. They'd gotten a mid-winter wonderland instead.

"Hm." Yukihira tosses aside the shovel, then ushers her back indoors. Once safely tucked away behind closed doors, he kisses her lips once, and then again. "You don't have to. I can go. There's coffee and milk and breakfast to tide you over first." A pause – then a rugged, rogue-ish grin surfaces. "And the cellar's fully stocked."

"Wine for breakfast? What would Hisako say?"

He pushes her up against the wall, evidently with intentions to make good the promise of 'keeping one another warm'. She can't say she minds. His breath warms against her throat. "She'd most likely lie about all the times she's done the same, with Hayama. Why should we take our doctors' orders from her?"

His mouth finds hers again. And, she has to concede, as his hands slide beneath her jumpers, and as he hoists her up so that her legs wrap about his waist – the man has a point.