It's shocking how easily Seth and I have settled back into our routines. We're both busy these days. Seth may have finished one deal, but that doesn't mean he gets to slow down. He's busier than ever, and for the time being, I don't mind. I've still got a few more weeks of work left with Steve and I've been cramming every minute of my day with new projects in hopes of saving up a good chunk of cash. Hopefully, we'll have enough to get us by until I can find a new job.

In my free time, I've been scanning the internet for any job opportunities that I can find. Not just for myself, but also for Seth. He's not aware that I'm doing this, but I feel like it's necessary. We might be okay for now, but if Seth continues on in a job he hates, it could very well cause more damage in the end. I'm not willing to risk adding that kind of strain to our marriage. If there's another option out there that pays as well, we need to snatch it up.

My eyes are beginning to droop as the dim lighting from my computer screen blazes against my retinas. The intensity of the light is almost painful now that the sun has gone down. I'm too lazy to get up and switch on any lights, so as I sit in a pitch-black room, my eyes strain against the ads on the computer.

I'm feeling more and more defeated as I skim the useless options. Nothing is good enough. Either the pay is horrible, or the job itself is. I'm not willing to take a job unless I know it's something I'll enjoy. The only way that's happening is if desperation sets in and we just need some kind of income to survive off of. I pray things don't get to that point.

While I'm half worried about what quitting my job could mean for us, I'm also grateful that I did. Sure, finding a replacement job might be difficult, but I don't regret what I did. If anything, choosing to quit has done wonderful things to my and Seth's relationship. I know he never wanted me to quit. He never would have asked me to do that. But, I know he appreciated it. He appreciated the unspoken meaning behind such an action. That in itself was enough reason to do it again if needed.

Standing from my slouched position, I place my laptop on the coffee table and make my way to the light switch. Flicking it on, I get to work making dinner. I've always hated this time of year because even though it's only six o'clock, the sun is already gone. Everything about winter is miserable. The dampness, the coldness, the darkness. It's the perfect time of year to sink into a deep depression and sleep until summer. I'm not sure I would have survived this time of year had Seth and I not made up first.

I'm busy sizzling garlic and onion in the skillet when the front door swings open. Seth saunters in, looking exhausted. I holler a 'hello', sending him a sympathetic look before turning back to preparing dinner.

Tonight is omelet night. I'm too lazy to put any more effort into cooking than that. With bacon bits already cooked to perfection, I get to work pouring eggs into the skillet and adding all the innards. I do make a mean omelet, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Just as I'm setting dinner on the table, Seth exits the bathroom. He looks refreshed, his hair still dripping with water droplets. He runs his towel over his head quickly before draping it over the back of his chair and then taking a seat.

"Smells amazing," he says, grabbing the salt shaker and sprinkling some over his meal.

"Thanks," I say, joining him at the table.

We only make it halfway through our meal when suddenly the lights flicker off. I freeze, glancing into the darkness that's now swallowing us. I'm just preparing to stand and start hunting for the candles when they pop back on. I catch Seth's eye and he just shrugs, shoving another bite of food into his mouth.

"They did say that there's a storm blowing in tonight," Seth starts to say as I get comfortable in my seat.

"Really?" I ask, taking a bite.

"Yep." He shoves his empty plate away from him and grabs his water. He takes a good long swig before licking his lips and placing his glass back on the table. "They say it's going to be a big one."

Just as he says this, the lights begin to flicker again. They don't go out, but I can sense that a power outage is quickly approaching. I hurry to finish my omelet and then stand. With quick movements, I get to work collecting blankets and a few candles, some matches, and a couple of flashlights before returning to my seat.

Seth doesn't seem as concerned about the storm as I do, which he probably isn't. If anything, he's probably excited about putting his survival skills to work. The truth is, I happen to love a good storm too. But, I don't love not being prepared for them. After our little night spent floating on a mattress in the stream, the temperature suddenly dropped. It's still decent through the days, but nights are torture. If we lose power, I definitely don't look forward to shivering in the dark.

"How big are they predicting this storm to be?" I ask as I lean my forearms on the table across from Seth. "Like, will there be snow, rain, a tornado? What should we expect?"

"Not sure," he mumbles, "I just heard some guys at work talking about it. Maybe we should check it out."

And with that, he's standing and making his way towards the couch. I follow. Switching on the TV, he flicks through until he hits the Weather Channel and then we watch the predictions with bubbling excitement.

Apparently, we're expected to get three inches of snow—which isn't that big of a deal—but the winds that will be accompanying them will be. There are tornado warnings popping up all over central Illinois and even into parts of Indiana. Unfortunately for us, Greenville is smack dab in the middle of it all.

I wish I could lie and say that this terrifies me, but in all honesty, it doesn't. I'm sure if a tornado did strike, I'd change my mind, but I think it's the possibility that makes it exciting. I love the pre-storm activity: the raging winds, the roaring thunder, the slapping rains. Those are the aspects of a storm that make tonight so thrilling for me.

A sudden swirl of wind outside has the windows quivering and the trees swaying with passion. A bolt of lightning awakens the sky—momentarily illuminating the night with a false sense of daylight. It's beautiful, and I can't help but glance over at Seth with a giddy smile on my face. I start to chuckle when I see the joyous look sprouting to life on his own face.

Yep, we were most definitely made for each other.

"Should we set up camp in the bathroom?" I ask. It's the safest place in our house since it sits somewhat in the center of our home and doesn't have any windows.

Seth nods and then stands to help me carry all our supplies into our new designated safe zone. We get everything set up and then snuggle down on our pile of blankets to wait for the storm to hit. Minutes tick by, but nothing happens. We just sit, glancing at each other occasionally, and staring up at the ceiling the rest of the time.

When Seth suddenly starts chuckling, I pull my gaze away from a small stain in the ceiling where we may have once had a leak and glance over at him. He's staring down at his hands in his lap as he laughs, and I find myself joining in. I feel like a child laughing at a joke that I don't understand, but sometimes Seth's laughter is just so contagious.

He lifts his humor-filled eyes towards me and then shakes his head side-to-side as he chuckles softly.

"This is getting stupid," he says, glancing at the mess we'd created in our bathroom.

We'd been so prepared for our town to be destroyed that we'd even filled the bathtub with all the non-perishable food we could find. There are cans of tuna, beans, corn, and salsa; along with chips, pudding, apple sauce, cereal, granola bars, and beef jerky. If we didn't die from the storm, we'd most likely die from the food we planned to survive off of.

"Yeah," I agree, letting my eyes sweep over the cozy space we'd created. "But we might as well make the most of it.

With that, I'm pulling out a few candles, lighting them, and then flicking off the light switch.

"There," I say proudly, settling down next to Seth again.

The room is warm and inviting, tiny flames swaying as they burn through their wax bases. The scent of cinnamon and apples melts into the air and I'm suddenly craving some hot chocolate to go along with our pretend power outage.

"Hold on," I suddenly say, popping back up again and flicking on the light switch. "I'm got an idea."

Then I'm opening the bathroom door and walking as gracefully as possible toward the kitchen. My ankle is feeling much better these days but still has me limping slightly. I can't wait until I feel normal again. All I want is to be able to walk like the lady I am.

I rummage through the cabinets, eager to find all the supplies I need to make the world's most delightful cup of hot cocoa. As I begin filling the countertops with all the necessities, my chest begins to swell with excitement. It's another one of those moments. One of those moments that will never be forgotten.

I'm just reaching for a saucepan when the lights in the house cut out. I'm standing in pitch darkness. I don't think I've experienced this level of blackness in a long time. Without the streetlights on to provide the night-light feel to the house, there's absolutely no way to see a thing.

When a glow begins to make its way through the dark, I realize that Seth has grabbed a candle and is coming towards me. I can see the smile on his face as the flame illuminates his glistening teeth and I suddenly can't hold back a laugh. He looks so goofy with the shadows dancing over his face and the whites of his eyes blazing.

"I was going to make hot chocolate," I tell him, my shoulders slouching slightly.

"You still can," he responds, pulling a box of matches from his sweat pants pocket.

I smile up at him, and then order him to set the candle down so he can help me. While I strike the match against the edge of the box, Seth turns the nob on the stove so the gas can leak out. Without electricity, the igniter won't work, so we have to create our own spark.

Our plan is a success, and I instantly get to work dumping cocoa powder, milk, honey, vanilla, and cinnamon into the pan. Stirring slowly, I breathe in the warm scents that are radiating from the heated concoction. When it begins to simmer, I flick off the flame and begin pouring the contents into two massive mugs, topping them both with a generous portion of marshmallows.

"I'm glad the power ended up actually going out," I say to Seth as he illuminates our way back to the bathroom.

"Why's that?" he asks, taking a seat on the pile of blankets and then reaching up to take his hot chocolate from my grasp.

"It's more exciting somehow," I explain. "Like, I can't just get up and switch on the light whenever I feel like it. With the lights out, this doesn't feel pointless."

"It wouldn't be pointless anyway," Seth says, placing his drink on the floor beside him and then pulling me into his side. I gasp slightly, holding my drink away from me slightly so it doesn't spill on me with the movement. Thankfully, I don't lose any of my beverage and easily sink into Seth's comforting hold.

"I like this," he suddenly says, his breath warm against the top of my head.

I turn my head slightly to peer up at him, the candlelight adding a bronzing effect to his skin and drawing out his defined arms even more than normal.

"Me too," I tell him, letting my eyes scan over his bare arms. It's one of the few times he's decided against long sleeves and I don't think he could have picked a more convenient time to reveal himself. This lighting is doing all kinds of amazing things to his features.

As I finish off my hot chocolate, the storm begins to pick up speed. I can hear the winds whipping around the edges of the home, and pulling at the roof. It's powerful, there's no doubt, but so far, there's no tornado.

Several minutes pass, and before I know it, the storm has rocked me into a cozy sleep, snuggled into Seth's side.