Emma checked the weather for the tenth time, biting her nails nervously. The forecast just kept getting worse. A huge snowstorm was headed their way, her aunt and uncle weren't back from her Aunt Jenny's house in West Virginia yet. Yes, they decided to spend their weekend at their place again. Meanwhile Emma haven't moved from her bed for hours, powering through multiple seasons of The Vampire Diaries. She could almost feel the cobwebs forming.

She glanced out the window. Thick tufts of snow are already falling outside, and it's starting to get dark, too. Her aunt and uncle should be home by now. As she was about to check the weather again, her cell phone rang. It's Aunt Caroline and Uncle Albert. Emma answered the call.

"Hi Emma, have you seen the weather forecast?'' Aunt Caroline asked.

"Yeah, are you guys gonna be able to get home?''

"Actually, we decided not to take any chances so we're staying at a nearby hotel for one more night. Hope that's okay..." Aunt Caroline said anxiously.

Emma shrugged. She'll have to make her own dinner again, but she has no complaints about having the house to themselves. "Sure, I'll be fine."

"Don't throw any ragers," Uncle Albert jokes. "Oh wait, you'd need friends for that." she facepalm. Typical. "Bye, Uncle Albert," Emma said, as she hung up the cell phone in her hands at once.

It's past seven, and she was craving mac and cheese. She went downstairs and set a pot of water to boil. She headed back upstairs to finish her episode when the doorbell rang.

Emma froze, automatically wondering if it's a robber or a serial killer, or something like that. This was always her first thought. She's scared of everything, hence why she never answer the door when she's home alone with her sister and cousins. It's just too risky!

The doorbell rang again. And again. Must be a pretty determined murderer, especially since he's standing out there in the snowstorm, which is raging at this point. Emma could barely see out the window, what with the snow coming down so thick. And the wind is howling like a banshee. Whoever this is, they must be desperate doe braving this storm.

Emma contemplate for a moment longer, but another, more insistent doorbell ring prompts her to face her fears. She unlocked the door and slowly opened it.

On the doorstep is no serial killer, no robber, no psychopath. It's James flashing her a sweet smile on his face.

She stood frozen for a moment, her mouth agape. He stood frozen too, but probably because it's literally freezing. Let him in, idiot.

"Hey James," Emma said as casually as she could, screaming internally. "What are you doing here?"

He avoided eye contact. He seemed uncharacteristically awkward, but maybe that's because he's on the doorstep of his best friend. "I... got kind of stuck in the snowstorm..." he said uncertainty, and she melted at the sound of his raspy thick sexy voice. "And my cell phone died, so... great timing, huh?'' he chuckled and shivered.

"Okay, come on in, idiot. You'll freeze to death out there.'' Emma stood back and open the door to let him in. He stepped in, and snow fell off his Adidas onto the rug. His ankles are bare. He's wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a Metallica band t-shirt.

She blinked a couple of times and looked back up at him. "A t-shirt? Are you insane?"

He still won't look at her, rubbing his arms and looking at his feet. "Yeah, I was running a couple laps at the park. I had no idea there would be a big storm. I started walking home but realized I didn't want to die, so I went to the nearest house... and I noticed the porch lights were on and so I decided to take a closer look, he added, which you assume really means, "I'm not a stalker, I swear."

Emma nodded in understatement, like this situation was totally normal and she's not all freaking out internally. She noticed his hair is white from snow, and he's still shivering like crazy. "Well, I should get you a towel. You should, uh, sit over there... there's a heating vent in the corner."

He finally met her eyes, cracking a small smile. It's barely noticeable, but usually the emotionless James, was a start. "Thanks," he said hurriedly.

She ran upstairs, mind reeling. As she got him the fluffiest towel she could find, it started to really sunk in. James. Is here. At her aunt and uncle's house. The guy she's been obsessed with in months of being friends. All she could really think was 'holy pregnant cow oh my God.'

Emma hurried back down and found James huddled in the corner, pressed against the heating vent. His eyes were closed, and he's hugging his knees to his chest. He looks adorable. 5'11, cool, and confident but reclusive, he intimidated the hell out of her. Being hot and attractive doesn't help. But now, curled up and shivering, with his guard down, he looked small and helpless and... so cute. She relished the sight, a little sadistically perhaps, before she go up to him and hand him the towel.

He opened his eyes and took the towel. "Thanks, Emma," he said quietly. He dried off his hair and wiped melted the snow off his face. Then he looked down at his shirt and Emma notice it's soaking wet. He glanced up at her and quickly back down, before reaching back and yanking his shirt off.

She forgot how to breathe for a second. Mental update: her crush James is still in the house. And now he is shirtless. She kind of just stare, taking in the six pack, glistening skin, everything. He dried off with the towel as she watched breathlessly. Then he wrapped it around himself, and she exhaled.

There's an awkward silence, and then he asked, "Um, can I use your phone?"

"What? Oh, right, of course." Emma reached into her pocket for her phone and handed it to him. He dialled a number, and whoever is on the other end picked up after the first ring. "Hi, Mom, it's me," he said, and she could tell his mom is gushing worriedly because he said "I'm fine" about fifteen times. "My phone died while I was running laps, and then the storm hit. I went to a friend's house though."

She hid a smile when she heard this. Of course he wouldn't tell his mother he went to a stranger's house, so "friend" is the logical thing to say. But still, it makes her stupidly happy.

Then he asked, "Can you pick me up?" and she felt a small twinge of disappointment. It's not like he'd want to stay overnight at the house of this random girl he's barely talked to. But despite all the signs pointing the other way, she'd always had a small hope that maybe, just maybe, he likes her back. Well, if someone likes you, they probably wouldn't ask to get picked up from their house. She sighed a little, and tune back into the conversation. He looks worried now.

"You mean you literally can't leave the house? It can't be that bad-" he broke off, looking out the window. The storm raging on and a foot of snow has already built up. Incredible. It's like Mother Nature conspired to force her crush into her house. At this point, a car wouldn't make it out of the driveway, much less drive across town and back.

James seems to realize this, and he sighed. "Fine. I'll stay over, and you'll get me tomorrow, okay? Yeah. Bye. Okay Mom. Bye." He hung up, and looks at her reluctantly. "So...I guess I'm stuck here for the night. Sorry..."

Emma tried not to look too happy. "It's no big deal, really. I have the house to myself so there are plenty of empty rooms."

He cocked his head quizzically, and she explained, "My aunt and uncle are at my Aunt Jenny's house in West Virginia for a little road trip with Stephanie and others... they're supposed to be home now but they're stuck too."

James smiled a little smile again, and her heart flutters. "Oh really? I use to go there to watch the football game. Um, Mountaineers..."

"You're a football fan? Me too! I'm also a Mountaineers supporter..." Emma said softly.

He laughed a little, but maybe it's an uncomfortable laugh because she suggested that he met her relatives which was a stupid thing to say to someone she barely know, even as a joke, and now he's furrowing his eyebrows and she's scared she might fucked everything up, and he said, "What's that sound?"

Emma listened. It's the pot boiling over. "Shit, forgot the mac & cheese!" she muttered, rushing over to the kitchen. The water is obviously ready, so she dump in the macaroni and set a timer.

James was standing awkwardly in the living room, so she goes back to him. "Well, if you're gonna be staying a while, I might as well get you some dry clothes," she said, glancing surreptitiously at the towel wrapped around him and the abs peeking out from under it. Reluctant as herself are to cover them up with a shirt, he's her guest now, and she needed to control her pervy thoughts anyway!

Emma running back upstairs and searched frantically through her closet for something a six foot guy could wear. She yanked out one of her baggy t-shirts and her biggest, comfiest sweatpants. She turned around and almost have a heart attack. He's standing right there in the doorway.

"Oh hey, didn't hear you come up," she said as casually as she can. Sneaky bastard - how was he so quiet? She hold out the clothes. "This was all I could find, let me know if it fits..." she trailed off. He's not paying attention. Instead, he's looking around her room, taking it all in and probably judging everything like the judgy, intimidating ass he is. God dammit, she cares so much about his opinion. Why doesn't she ever clean her room?

He looked over at her bed, and of course, her mind immediately goes wild. James. Emma's bed. What a combination. In reality, he's probably just shocked at how messy it is. Emma have got to start making her bed. But her cat likes nestling himself in the folds of the covers. In fact, he's curled up there now.

James sat down on her bed, and her heart started Irish dancing. Then he stretched a hand out cautiously towards her cat, and she remembers he has a cat too. They've talked about it plenty when they were out and about since it's practically the one thing they have in common. Emma remember joking that her cats should meet, and of course regretting the comment forever afterwards.

Now, he slowly rested his fingertips on the cat's forehead and pets him gently. The cat woke up with a start, and she hopes he won't run away, since he's never been great at meeting new people. But he sniffed James' hand for a moment and then rested his head again, seemingly satisfied. James smiled slightly and scratched her cat's ears, and the latter emits a low rumbling purr.

Emma clapped a little. I'm impressed. He's not usually this quick to make new friends."

James turned and grinned at her. "What can I say, everyone loves me."

She rolled her eyes, trying to be cool despite the fact that he's sitting on her bed and petting her cat and smiling at her and the towel has slipped off his shoulder onto the floor. Meanwhile, he turned his attention back to the cat.

Suddenly Emma felt like a third wheel. "Okay, um, here are some dry clothes. You can change here if you want, and I'll go down and finish making my mac & cheese."

"Change here? In front of him?" He gestured to the cat in fake shock.

"Oh, that cat has seen it all, don't worry," Emma respond, regretting it immediately.

James raised his eyebrows. "Has he now?" He asked teasingly.

"Just change, please," she shot back, her cheeks hot.

Downstairs, the macaroni is sticking to the bottom of the pot. "Fuck." Idiot. She scrape it up and stir it a little. The timer goes off a second later, so Emma shrugged and pour the pot into a colander, letting the water drain. She prepares the cheese sauce just the way she likes it, and pour the pasta into two bowls as James comes down the stairs.

"Is that for me?" he said, pointing to the extra bowl.

"Nope, they're both for me," Emma said sarcastically. She offered him a bowl. "Hungry?"

His eyes light up. "God yes, I'm starving." He sat down across from her and reached for the cheese sauce, but she grabbed it before he got there. "Me first."

"Where are your manners? I'm your guest!" he teased.

"I cooked this delicious meal for you, so I get first say on the cheese. Besides, you're not my guest, you forced your way in uninvited."

James looked as though he's not sure how to respond. "Oh. Sorry, you're right."

"Kidding. I don't mind. Here, I'm done with the cheese sauce." She pushed it towards him, hoping she didn't make him feel uncomfortable.

He meets her eyes, and he looks serious. "No, really, I'm sorry. You didn't have to let me in, and you didn't have to let me sleep over."

Emma just look at him. "Yeah, right; what else was I supposed to do, throw you back out into the storm?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, but I do know I owe you big time. Thank you."

Okay, now she feels awkward. "It's no problem. Seriously. Eat your food before it gets cold."

He looks at her for a few seconds, then chuckled. "Okay, Mom."

They just taken their first delicious bite when suddenly everything goes dark.

"Shit!" she groaned. "Seriously?" The power's gone out. Emma can just barely see James across the table, and he looks faintly surprised but otherwise no different from his usual blank self.

"Okay, it's okay, cause we have candles! Somewhere!" Emma jumped up and ran around the kitchen, searching through drawers until she found a couple of tiny candles. They'll have to do. She brings them to the table with a box of matches, but when she tried to light one it won't work. Maybe because she just suck at lighting matches. Or maybe because her fingers are trembling a little.

James watched she failed attempts for a moment, hiding a smile. Emma really hope he can't tell how nervous she is. Then he reached over and took the matchbox from her gently. "Here, let me." Inevitably, their hands touch, and she has to remind herself not to faint.

He lights a match with one easy strike and lights the candles. They emit a small halo of orange light. "Well, now we can see...slightly more," James remarked, perhaps trying to be positive. That's not one of his strong suits.

She shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, that's all I could find." She resume eating her food because she doesn't want that shit to get cold. She tries not to think about how romantic the current setting is. A candlelit dinner with James. This only happens in her wildest dreams. She still can't believe she's really awake. She tries to pinch herself subtly. Yup, definitely awake. Emma smile to herself and shove in another spoonful of mac & cheese.

A few bites in James seems to realize something, and groaned. "Of course, I didn't think to charge my phone before the power went out. Great."

She's not sure what to say to that. "Don't worry, I'm sure it'll come back on in a few minutes."

But it doesn't. The two of them finish their food and sit there for a minute in awkward silence, as if waiting for the power will bring it back. Emma notice he's shivering again. Of course, the heater doesn't work anymore. No more warm heating vents.

"Okay, let me get some blankets," she suggested. "It's getting cold."

He shrugged. "I'm fine."

"No, you still look like you're on the brink of death, and I can hear your teeth chattering. Come and get a blanket, dumbass."

He followed her upstairs and back into her room. She pulled a couple blankets off the end of her bed and give one to him. He's busy petting the cat again. Her laptop is on her bed, she sat down and opened it up. Thank God, there's plenty of battery left. The Vampire Diaries was still open.

James looks over. "What's that?"

Emma tried her best to explain the general premise, which is especially hard since she's five seasons in. She gave up, and admit, "I just watch it for the shirtless guys. And Ian Somerhalder."

James raised his eyebrows. "Sounds good. Can I watch?"

"You want me to start all the way from the beginning? she said, feigning annoyance.

"Nah, just start from where you are. If we're just watching it for the hot guys, then plot doesn't matter, right?" He grinned teasingly.

"Right. So don't ask me questions if you're confused." Emma laughed. She hit play, and scoot backwards on her bed until her back is resting against the wall. James joined her, wrapping his blanket around himself, which looks silly and, of course, adorable. He leaned in to watch, and she's extremely aware of how close he is.

After the usual opening teaser, the theme song comes on. James watched her jam the fuck out, looking mildly amused. As the episode continues, she pointed out Damon every time he comes on screen.

"There he is. That's Ian Somerhalder. He's kind of my husband." She explain this to him matter-of-factly.

"Right. And you've met him how many times?" He tilted his head mockingly.

She sighed. "Zero, but it doesn't matter. We have a connection."

"I find that hard to-"

"Shut up, you're missing important dialogue."

"I thought the plot was irrelevant? I'm just waiting for the shirts to come off, and so far, I'm disappointed." Just as he says that, the scene changes. A shirtless Damon is making out passionately with Elena.

"Happy?" she teased, poking James.

"Hell yeah, but not as happy as you, I'm sure."

Emma smiled to yourself. He's probably right, since Ian Somerhalder as Damon is one fine piece of meat, and as far as you know, James isn't gay. But she couldn't care less about Damon right now. James fucking Douglas is sitting next to her on her bed, watching a sex scene with her.

The camera caught Damon's spectacular chest. "You know, as hot as they are, these characters are just utterly unrealistic. High schoolers are not this ripped." A bicep flexed on screen, proving her point.

James raised an eyebrow. "Oh aren't they?" He turned to her, a sly smile on his face. Emma's heart started beating way too fast. "I mean, look at me, I look just like that guy." He pointed to Damon, who is pulling off Elena's bra.

Emma laughed nervously. "Okay James, whatever helps you sleep at night." Does he know how much he's messing with her emotions? Her face is getting warm.

"Are you denying it?" he said, acting offended. He thrusted an arm out from the blanket and flexed it. "Just check out this bicep, and tell me that runt has more muscle than me."

Well, it has certainly been a deliciously strange night, but this is something else. James was on her bed, flexing his muscles for her? It just gets better and better.

In a sudden moment of daring, Emma reached out and touched his upper arm. "Hmm, not bad, but it's just not quite as impressive as Damon's incredibly buff arms." She can't believe she's saying this, and she definitely can't believe James is letting her feel his biceps. He's not pulling away, and she looked up and he's smiling slightly, a devious look in his eyes.

"Fine, then. What do you say to these?" For the second time in an hour he pulled his shirt over his head, letting his glorious abs bathe in the light of the computer screen.

Emma officially forgot how to breathe. Her face must be bright red by now, and she hopes he can't tell in the dim lighting. "I-um..." Breathe, Emma, breathe. You've seen these before. Earlier today, and also in the stalker picture her friend snagged during a swim meet. But here they are, just inches away from her. She swallowed audibly and just stare, her mouth slightly open, like a goddamn fish. James laughed lightly, watching her reaction.

On her computer, the juicy bit has just ended, and the dialogue is starting up again. Without looking away, Emma hit the spacebar to shut it up. She have a real-life shirtless boy to worry about. Damon is just being distracting at this point.

She slowly stretched her fingers out and brush them against his chest. Rock hard abs, but his skin is smooth and soft. Only an angel could be both at once, so flawlessly and effortlessly. She must be in heaven. Emma touched his six pack and trace the grooves in between, refusing to blink for fear that she'll miss even a millisecond of this, or that she'll open her eyes to find it was all just a dream.

Get a grip. Say something. This is getting weird.

"Uhhh. Mmm. You, uh," Emma started. Bad. Do better. "You, uhh, you win," she got out breathlessly.

James smiled innocently. "I do? Thank you." He looked around, noticing the laptop still open to The Vampire Diaries. "Well, I think I've had enough of this," he remarked casually, shutting the laptop and putting it on the floor.

The sudden darkness caught her off guard. Emma grope around for the light switch, but her lamp doesn't turn on. Duh. Power outage. Emma waited for her eyes to adjust.

They don't get the chance. A pair of hands is suddenly on her shoulders, pushing her gently down on the bed. James released her shoulders, but then took her arms and pinned them down above her head with one hand. The other hand travels down to the hem of her shirt, pushing it up ever so slightly. His cold fingers brush against her belly and she shuddered at the sensation. Emma heard a low chuckle, and it's coming from right below her ear, his breath tickling her neck. When did his face get so close to hers?

Emma's brain has slowed down as if it's moving through Jell-O, but she's starting to process what's happening. She's about to open her mouth to say something, she's not sure what, probably gibberish, when something soft and cool presses against her neck. She jumped and got up immediately from the bed brushing her clothes shyly and turned to James awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, James... I'm a virgin, I'm not ready..." she said looking up at him smiling nervously.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized.

"No, it's okay... I forgive you," she said calmly brushing her hair to the side.

She glanced to her side table to look at the time and it read four in the morning. "It can't be four in the morning, it just can't... Do you mind if I just get in with you for a minute? It's alright. Really, it is. We're friends. That's all. We are friends, aren't we?" she asked looking up at him smiling.

"Sure," James answered stroking her hair softly to the side.

"Okay, let's don't say another word. Let's just go to sleep."

Emma fell asleep to the sound of his breathing and the feeling of his arms, finally warming up, wrapped around her.