And I hoped immensely that maybe, just maybe, he might have learnt a little lesson this evening.

***

Due to the lack of power, we’d spent much of our evening lugging mattresses into the library. While the sofas were comfortable to sit on, they weren’t the best for sleeping, and Miles was far too tall to sleep on them at any rate.

I’d had to reluctantly let him into my bedroom when it became glaringly obvious that I was only good for carrying pillows—not even duvets, lest I fall over them and hurt myself again.

I was, apparently, a little liability.

I wholeheartedly agreed with his observation there, for what it was worth.

We’d spent the evening sharing fire duties, although admittedly Miles had gotten up more times than me. It wasn’t for lack of trying, more a lack of him letting me do it. I liked to think it was because of my little pep talk earlier.

I liked to think a lot of things that weren’t true, okay?

Like that it would stop raining soon.

Unfortunately, the forecast showed that would not happen. The rain was set to stay for at least another twenty-four hours, which meant this forced proximity with Miles wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

As long as the rain fell, the flood waters would rise, and the roads would become more and more impassable with every inch that accumulated.

We could be here for bloody days if it didn’t stop.

I did not want to be here for days with Mr. Grumpy over there.

I suspected he relished the idea of being here with me even less, given we hadn’t spoken a word to one another for two hours.

Instead of talking, we’d laid in relative silence. I’d put my book down an hour ago while he’d still been sitting on his mattress reading by the firelight. It was the only source of light we had since we’d blown out the candles after checking the weather forecast—we’d been lucky to get enough signal to catch a video of the forecast.

Granted, Miles had been hanging over the staircase banister rather precariously to hold the signal, but still.

The point remained.

We were stuck.

I rolled onto my side and stared at the window. The curtains were closed, but there was a slither of space where the drapes didn’t meet. I couldn’t see a thing, but I stared at it long enough that I could hear nothing but the rain pelting against the glass.

It was weirdly soothing.

Although I did rather wonder if that was the fire and not the rain.

I sighed. Why did these storms always throw out the power? I could charge my phone, but I had to be conservative with the power bricks. There really was no telling how long it would take to restore the electric, especially if the reason for this was a downed power cable.

And let’s be honest. That probably was the reason.

How long would I be stuck here with Miles?