She scrambles backward so fast she nearly falls off the bed. I grab her arm to steady her, and we freeze.
"Hi," I say.
"Hi." Her cheeks are turning pink. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine. I basically assaulted you with snuggling."
I almost smile at that. "I'll survive."
"Still." She pushes back, putting distance between us, and I let her go. "That was... not how I intended to wake up."
"How did you intend to wake up?"
"On my own side of the bed. Like a normal person with boundaries."
"Boundaries are overrated."
She shoots me a look. Half embarrassed, half something else. Then she laughs, and the tension breaks.
"This is ridiculous," she says. "We're ridiculous."
"Speak for yourself. I'm perfectly reasonable."
"Nothing about this is reasonable." She sits up, pushing hair out of her face. "Bathroom. I need to assess the damage."
"What damage?"
"To my dignity." She swings her legs off the bed. "Please tell me I don't have drool on my face."
"You don't have drool on your face."
"Are you lying?"
"Little bit."
She gasps and throws a pillow at me. I catch it, and she disappears into the bathroom with a muttered "rude" that doesn't quite hide her smile.
I sit up and run a hand through my hair.
This is fine. So what if she's too fucking attractive and easy to talk to and we're stuck here together. Physical proximity breeds familiarity. That's just biology. Doesn't mean anything has to happen.
Doesn't mean anything should happen.
I get up and start rebuilding the fire.
*****
By the time Madison emerges, I've got the flames going strong and my head on straight. She's pulled her hair into a messy bun and washed her face, and she looks... good. Fresh. Like someone who doesn't need makeup to be pretty.
Not that I'm noticing.
"Status report," she says, all business. "What's the storm doing? When can we escape?"
"Still raging, not anytime soon."
She nods in acceptance.
