“Rise and shine,” Sawyer’s muffled voice pulls me from my sleep. I pry open my eyes and see streaks of light shining through the cocoon of quilts I’m wrapped inside. It’s so warm and cozy, I don’t think anything could make me want to move.

“I’ve got breakfast,” he nudges my blanket shell. Ok, so maybe that is enough motivation. My rumbling belly agrees.

I pop out of the mini blanket fort and smile at Sawyer from under my frizzy hair and flyaways.

He laughs and leans over me, kissing me softly on the forehead. “Good morning,” he places a couple of bowls of white porridge on the night table and smoothes his large hands over my hair. Holding my head on each side, he covers my mouth in a tender kiss. Not like the urgent, desperate kisses from yesterday. Instead, I can feel the slow, sensual warmth pour from him into me, spreading through my body like the heat of the liquor we drank last night did.

Sawyer releases me from his kiss, but rests his forehead against mine, his hands haven’t moved from my face. In this moment, I feel like nothing in the outside world matters. It’s like our past burdens have been lifted and our future is yet to be written. My heart feels lighter, my head clearer, my life fuller.

“You’re so beautiful when you wake up, do you know that?” He doesn’t wait for me to think about it, to answer, instead he kisses me quickly and all those mornings that I spent glaring at my imperfections in the mirror float away. I do feel beautiful, every time of day, when I’m with him.

“I managed to throw together some food,” he pulls away and cracks my illusion of an ethereal world with only us two. The dingy cabin slides back into focus around us, and the snow piles high outside the bedroom window. I realize with a sinking heart that the storm has stopped.

“Is it over?” I nod at the frosty glass.

“According to the radio it’s just a break,” his intense brown eyes meet mine. I feel like what we aren’t saying is more important than what we are. I can see him struggling with our impending reality as much as I am. Sooner or later this storm won’t just letup, it’ll be over, and we’ll probably never see each other again.

I distract myself with breakfast, I’m not ready to think about a life without Sawyer in it yet, but I’m happy to think about eating.

“What did you make?” I glance into the bowls and realize that I was wrong about the porridge. It looks like rice.

“Oh, I made you today’s special, rice pudding. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out considering,” he holds his hand out at our surroundings and I nod. It’s amazing that he’s been able to make meals, let alone ones that taste as good as his do out here.

Sawyer hands me my bowl, grabs his and we dig in.

The sweetness explodes on my tongue and I devour my bowl like I haven’t eaten in a week. When I swallow the last mouthful, I lick my lips, “Where did you learn to cook? It’s incredible what you can put together. If I was up here alone, I would’ve starved by now.”

I can see the glimmer of pride flash in his eyes, Sawyer places our bowls back on the little table and looks out the window like he’s looking into another time.

“My parents taught me, mostly.” He answers. “They owned a restaurant, Il Lupi, or The Wolf in English.”

“What language is that?” I tilt my head and scan Sawyer’s features, I’ve never detected any hint of an accent in his voice.

“Italian,” he doesn’t blink, still staring outside.

“Why was it named that?” Thunder rolls over his face and his beard twitches as he struggles to find his words.

“Because the restaurant wasn’t just my parents’- my brother and I pretty much grew up in that place. We celebrated our victories there, I had my first heartbreak there, it was the backdrop of our lives. Dad said that without the family, the restaurant was nothing, that we were what breathed the life into that place. He called it Il Lupi because our family was tight, like a wolf pack, we stuck together.” Sawyer frowns and swallows hard, flicking his eyes back to me.

“That’s beautiful,” I whisper. “Why did you leave then?” The words fall from my tongue before I have a chance to think them over. Obviously, if he wanted to tell me what happened, he would’ve by now. I look down at the patchwork on the quilt, “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

“It’s ok. They’re dead,” his voice is flat and hard. “My family was taken from me and the restaurant was destroyed. I realized that my wolf pack was ripped from me. That I became a lone wolf, I guess. The city is no place for a lone wolf.” He frowns at his clenched fists like they betray him. Anger and grief battle for control of his face.

“I’m so sorry,” I lay my hand on top of his.

“Me too,” he looks up at me. Sawyer stands up and grabs the empty bowls from beside the bed, “Ok, well, speaking of food, I’m going to take advantage of this break in the snow and try to hunt for some more rabbit,” he says it too loudly, like he’s trying to overpower his memories by yelling at them.

“Can I come with you?”

He stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulder at me, “Come with me?” He wonders out loud.

“Please? I can help you, or at least keep you company,” I realize my motivation is greedy, I know he won’t be lonely out there without me. He’s a lone wolf, but I’m not. I can’t stand the idea of being here all day without him.

“What about your floppy-eared bunny and all that? You aren’t going to have a ‘Bambi’s mother’ moment out in the woods when I kill our supper, are you?”

“No, I already ate the stew you made, I know where it came from. I’m good. I might even be able to help,” I offer.

“I don’t know about that,” he smiles, “sure, fill your boots. If you want to come, I’d love the company.” He walks over to the kitchenette and puts the bowls in the sink and I spring out of bed like he just told me it’s Christmas morning. The truth is, I feel more excited than I have for any December twenty-fifth. Not because we’re hunting rabbits, but because he just told me what I’ve been longing to hear. He wants me around him. He doesn’t want to be alone. He said he’d love the company.

Maybe when this is all over there is hope for us after all. Maybe he’ll come back to the city with me and enjoy my company for good.