Cotton Blanket

     Despite the December weather, Luciné and Jynxo found themselves warmed up.

     The sun had already set a couple of hours ago, hiding behind pure white mountains on a winter horizon. Night at home had been a pleasant sort of quiet, with the distant rumbling of the apartment’s heater, a small, electric device shielding them from the outside cold. It had stopped snowing the day before, but none of the previous downfalls had melted, so its white roots had settled in between roads, parks, and buildings. Anywhere, really, if you were brave enough to venture outside.

     Jynxo disliked the snow for how goddamn cold it was. A known fact, given its nature, but one that Jynxo had grown to disfavor from a very early age. Raised in a warmer climate, he had never truly gotten used to the cold nipping at his nose. He had moved to a colder area a couple of years ago, and yet every winter season, he would go through the same experience: wondering at the sight of the snow for a day, then hating it for the rest of the year, and a little bit of the next one. No matter how many times he would layer up, the snow would find little cracks in between snow-proof shoes or goose feather jackets to sip through and melt into cold water. Jynxo loathed every second of it.

     Luciné, on the other hand, did not mind the cold that much. Instead, he disliked the snow for how annoying it was. He was not a fan of the freezing weather, of course, but he turned his nose more over the smaller, mundane annoyances: the inability to walk without fearing a slip against ice, the constant drag on his calves from digging his every footstep, the number of layers weighing on his chest to keep his body temperature inside. Snow was annoying, especially so when his wings, usually tucked snugly against his back to try and keep warm, would frost up and stiffen through the weather. Like a bird urging to migrate to a warmer climate, Luciné preferred to stay away from the snow as much as he possibly could.

     Though their motivations were different, they both came to the same conclusion: winter weather was something to avoid. And with it, came their love of that electric heater working tirelessly in their living room: the one and only true savior to their cozy little paradise.

     “Did the light just… flickered?” Jynxo piped up, eyebrows furrowed. It had been quick enough for the TV not to be affected, but just for a second, he could have sworn that the living room light had blinked.

     Luciné sat at his side on the couch, book in hand, lost within its contents, “I did not see that,” he said, without even glancing up.

     “Weird,” Jynxo muttered, hoping that would be that.

     But it wasn’t. The lights flickered a second time, this time trembling in quick succession as if trying to talk Morse code. The TV glitched with it, and this time around, Luciné noticed as well. The couple stared at their overhead light, waiting for it to do something else–

     There was a loud thundering noise somewhere outside their home, making the pair jump. Almost instantly, the TV shut down, the light flickered one more time to turn off, and worse of all, their heater stopped humming.

     The power had gone out.

     “Shit–” Jynxo stood up, narrowing his eyes to try and find any traces of light left in the apartment, to little avail.

     “Are you okay?” Luciné asked, somewhere at his side.

     “Yeah– we need to find some candles, I guess? Hope this doesn’t last for very long.”

     “Allow me,” the angel said, then stand up and disappear into the apartment for a couple of minutes.

     In the meantime, Jynxo’s hands were feeling the couch around for his phone, finding it missing. He did not keep track of it when enjoying Luciné’s company, which was usually not a big deal. Though embraced by the darkness of their apartment, he lamented the commodities of a modern phone.

     It didn’t take long for Luciné to find a source of light, even without a digital flashlight. Jynxo could see the angel’s silhouette, return from somewhere in their kitchen, holding up a set of candles and a small cigarette lighter. Jynxo was not surprised by the man’s ability to see in the dark, supernatural as his presence usually was, but made sure to note it for further occasions. It was good to know, and more than anything, it was impressive.

     “Thank you,” he said, feeling the candles with his fingers to locate the wick.

     “A power outage?” Luciné wondered with a hum.

     “Yeah, most likely. Hopefully, it doesn’t very long,” Jinxo sighed, though some of his hope knew it was fruitless. These types of events would usually last for a couple of hours if not the whole night. With the roads snowed and frozen, fixing whatever electric pole had broken was quite the feat, “For now, we just need to work with the candles, I guess. It’ll be boring and a bit of a pain to see, but shouldn’t be a big deal.”

     “The heater,” the angel lamented, letting out a pitiful sigh.

     Jinxo hadn’t even thought about that. He glanced in the direction of their device, and though he couldn’t see it, he found its distinctive hum missing from the air. He cursed again.

     “I mean, we have a bunch of blankets,” Jinxo would find those later, once he had figured out how to light the candles. “And the apartment is insulated enough that we won’t freeze. At least, I hope not.”

     “Yeah,” Luciné sighed, “I hope so too. Need any help?”

     Jinxo shook his head, even as he struggled to figure out the small lighter in his hands. It took one, two, three clicks until a small flame finally answered his call. With care, he directed it toward the biggest candle he could feel, and with it, the room got a little bit brighter.

     “Help me light the other ones?” He asked, to which Luciné happily obliged.

     The first hour of the power outage was calm if not a little boring. Reading under candlelight was tough, yet they somehow managed to take turns with a single read, reading out loud to try and entertain themselves. By the dawn of the second, though, boredom was the least of their concerns. Whatever warmth had still lingered from their precious little heater started to slowly fade away, making the room colder with every passing second.

     Jynxo was, the first to sense it, to sense the cold taking residence in their home. Barefoot, as he was when walking through a cozy apartment, he started to feel cold nipping at his feet. He curled up on his spot on the couch, trying for the furniture’s fabric to warm them up– to no effect. Still, he stood stubbornly, refusing to be the first one to mention anything about it.

     “It’s… getting colder,” Luciné said at one point, sighing. He shifted too, almost uncomfortable.

     “Hmm? Is it?” Jynxo asked, sipping his cup of hot cocoa which had become cold long ago, “I… guess you are right.”

     They settled in that silence for a second more, Jynxo still sitting on his own stubbornness. There was nothing they could do, so sipping through was nothing more than necessary.

     But Luciné didn’t seem to think so.

     “I’m cold,” They murmured, almost sadly.

     That was it, Jynxo’s stubbornness washed away like a bucket of ice water, dropped on his head. As he turned to look at his partner, he could see the way Luciné’s wings were tucked up behind him, pressed neatly against his back.

     “Blanket,” Jynxo blurted out, hurrying to stand.

     “Oh, I can get it,” The angel offered, but Jynxo waved the idea off.

     “Already up,” he said, ignoring the cold steps through the cold apartment.

     He found said blanket easily in their bedroom, though it was still hard to see. The dim candlelight only did so much, so he was mainly relying on touch and muscle memory. In a glance out the window, he could see a similar situation from houses around their street: either pitch dark, or glowing with a gentle orange, flickering from activity. Disheartening, of course, to know so many other people were in the same situation– yet in one way or another, a bit comforting. At least they weren’t the only ones.

     Hopefully, they too, had someone to keep them warm.

     “I found a cotton blanket,” Jynxo said, settling back down next to Luciné, who seemed excited about his partner’s presence.

     “That should be enough, thank you so much.”

     “Yeah, ‘course.”

     It was a single piece of fabric, stretched and tied along the edges to create a double layer, each with a different pattern to choose from. It looked homemade, though Jynxo could not recall who exactly had made it. Had it been a gift, or perhaps a second-use find? Regardless, it was soft to the touch, and it would warm up fine under Luciné’s warmth.

     “Here we go,” Jynxo murmured, standing in front of his partner. He leaned forward, dripping the blanket on top of his partner, with care to wrap the edges and keep it secure. It was hard with the wings, of course, but he was trying.

     “I thought we would share it,” Luciné pointed out, though he snuggled with the blanket.

     “You look to be colder than me,” Jynxo said with a shrug. “I wanna help you warm up.”

     “Ah, nonsense. You look to react to the cold just as much as I do.”

     Jynxo knew he did, but Luciné was top priority. He shrugged again, “I’m okay. Do you want anything? I can make us more hot cocoa– no, tea. The gas should still work so I can boil stuff, but I don’t wanna accidentally over-boil milk. Shit– the fridge is out, our food might get bad.”

     Luciné let out a laugh. It sounded endeared, though Jynxo wasn’t sure, “You’re worried that the fridge isn’t cold when our apartment is like this?”

     “I… guess you’re right,” Jynxo mumbled, fighting the urge to shrug a third time. “So is tea fine, or–?”

     Luciné cut him off with a gesture, reaching out to lace their fingers together. Gently, he pulled Jynxo closer, and though it was not a firm pull, Jynxo moved without hesitation.

     “I don’t want tea or hot cocoa,” the angel said with a smile, “But if you want me to warm up, maybe we can share the blanket?”

     Jynxo had to look away for a second, knowing full well that Luciné could see his blush despite the dim lighting. He also took that second to remember how to speak, haunted by the other’s beauty, “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

     “Jynxo,” Luciné’s voice was sweet, and smooth, like red velvet. With his right hand still busy holding hands, his left one went up to cup Jynxo’s chin, “I want to help you warm up too.”

     A deep breath, almost a shudder. A type of tender, celestial affection that was rushing through the mortal’s head, almost too much that he wasn’t sure if he should accept it. Almost.

     “‘kay,” Jynxo said, fearing he’d say something stupid if he spoke more than that. Lifting a corner from the blanket, Jynxo settled under the cotton. Luciné moved a bit closer to the edge of the couch, making room for them both.

     “Comfortable?” It was Luciné’s turn for the question, “Or would you like another blanket?”

     “I’m okay,” Jynxo mumbled against Luciné’s shoulders, “This is nice– but if you want another blanket, I can get it. I mean it.”

     “No need. Here, let me–”

     Luciné’s wing wrapped around Jynxo, a hug as soft as Luciné himself. Wings were predominantly feathers, but the warmth of skin and bone traveled through them, and Jynxo relaxed against the cozy embrace. It was nice, even more so. Though he didn’t want to say it again.

     He settled with, “Thank you.”

     “Of course, Jynxo. I’m here for you too, you know?”

     The words fluttered through Jynxo’s chest, like a cloud of butterflies. The more Luciné spoke, the harder it became to wipe that blush off his face. And at the same time, the least he wanted to.

     “We… should keep each other warm, then. How does that sound?”

     Jynxo could not see details very well, but he didn’t have to– he could hear Luciné’s smile, “Delightful.”

     They huddled together, for warmth, and to show their affection. Jynxo treasured the feeling of their fingers still together, placed his head on his partner’s chest, and closed his eyes under the shadow of angel wings. Luciné brushed through Jynxo’s hair, whispering sweet nothings to Jynxo’s ears. They said I love you a thousand times over, without using any of those three words.

     Jynxo almost fell asleep to the love of his life.

     The sound of the heater kicking back to life was loud, and it came before the flash of light that was lightbulbs turning on. Jynxo hissed by the sudden exposure to brightness, while Luciné let out a relieved sigh. There was no need to fear the cold any longer.

     “That’s good,” Jynxo said, spotting their trusty heater, “We needed that.”

     “Yes,” Luciné agreed, “We really did.”

     Even when the room started warming up again, and even when the cold was an old memory gone by– they didn’t let go of each other. The heater was there for their bodies. But they were there, together, to warm their hearts.