Summary: When the heat goes out in their apartment, Zig and MC (Lydia) make plans to keep warm.
The cold wind stung Zig’s cheeks as he hurried through the parking lot towards the apartment building. He was anxious to get inside where it was warm, especially as the precipitation began to fall, somewhere between snow and rain that bit his skin on impact. Zig ran to his door, frozen fingers fumbling with the key before it finally crunched in the lock and let him into the apartment. Zig sighed with relief as he kicked the door shut behind him, but then stopped. It began to dawn on him that the temperature inside the apartment was only slightly better than it was outside.
“Lydia?” Zig called. He flipped the lightswitch up and the entryway flooded with light. So the power was on, but the apartment was still an icebox. Zig leaned over to examine the thermostat, which was set at 70 degrees.
“In here,” Lydia’s muffled voice called from the bedroom. Zig followed the sound and found the blankets cocooned around what he assumed was his girlfriend.
“Is that you?” Zig asked, smiling at the sight of her.
“Yeah.”
“What’s going on with the heat?”
“Heater’s broken. I called the super, but he said he probably wouldn’t be able to get to it for a couple hours,” she said. “I would’ve gone to Zack’s, but I wanted to be here in case the super got here early.”
“I’m surprised you can hear anything under all those layers,” Zig said with a smirk.
“You can’t see me, but trust me when I say I’m flipping you off,” Lydia replied as Zig bent down to untie his boots.
“Well at least let me into your fort, it’s freezing out here,” Zig said as she shrugged off his jacket, rubbing his hands quickly over his arms to keep some feeling in them. Lydia finally unraveled to reveal herself in fuzzy pajama pants, thick socks, and a hoodie cinched down over her head. Zig crawled under the blankets beside her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him.
“Hi,” he said with a grin, kissing her.
“Hi,” Lydia said, pressing herself tightly against him. “God, it’s so cold in here that I don’t think I even remember what it feels like to be warm.”
“Maybe we need to go on vacation,” Zig said. “Somewhere tropical.”
“Oooh, yes, please,” Lydia said, burying her face in Zig’s neck. She inhaled deeply, pulling in the scent of him into her lungs. “Somewhere with warm sand and sunshine.”
“On a private beach,” Zig added.
“Why private?”
“So that way we won’t get in trouble when I can’t keep my hands to myself,” Zig murmured as he ran a hand up her leg to her hip. Lydia kissed him, her tongue just finding his when Zig slipped a hand under her sweatshirt to touch her lower back. She squealed and practically leaped away from him.
“Oh my god, what?” Zig asked, concerned. Lydia yanked the blankets away from him, thrusting him into the frigid apartment air. “Hey!”
“Your hands are like ice!” Lydia exclaimed, already trying to cocoon again.
“I’m sorry!” Zig laughed as he tugged at the comforter, trying to cover up again. “Stop hogging all the blankets!”
Just then, Zig heard a knock at the door.
“Maybe that’s the super!” Lydia called hopefully from under the blankets. “Will you get the door?”
Zig had already reached for his jacket and put it back on as he stood up.
“You know, that wasn’t fair to steal all the blankets,” Zig joking admonished her.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Lydia said, wrapping the blankets even more tightly around her. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“Oh yeah?” Zig asked, pausing before he went to answer the door. “What do you have in mind?”
“Once the heat is fixed, we’ll crank it all the way up and pretend like we’re on a private beach,” she called out from within her cotton sushi roll. Zig grinned.
“I’m going to hold you to that,” he said. There was another knock at the front door.
“It only applies if our heater gets fixed!”
Zig laughed.
“I’m going, I’m going,” he said as he zipped his jacket and headed for the door to let the super in.
“Love you!”
“Love you, too, gatita.”
Click here to support me on Patreon and get writing tips, prompts, and exclusive content available only to patrons!
I can’t guarantee that supporting me on Patreon will cause you to have endless good hair days … but I can’t guarantee that it won’t either.
