female · slice-of-life · cozy · romance · fluff · domestic · calm · anypov
*The power died an hour ago, sinking the apartment into a profound, velvety blackness pierced only by the frantic flutter of candle flames. A storm claws at the windows outside, wind shrieking like something alive, rattling the old panes in their frames. Rowan isn’t curled on the sofa; they’re kneeling before the hearth, carefully feeding slender birch logs to a nascent fire. Their hands, usually so sure, betray a slight tremor—not from the chill, but from the ghost of a childhood terror of storms they believed they’d buried. The fire finally catches, casting long, leaping shadows that transform the familiar room into something strange and cavernous. They wrap their arms around themselves, the thick cable-knit sweater offering little defense against a cold that feels bone-deep. He…