Sitting on the couch, he couldn’t ignore the warmth of her body pressed up against his. She leaned in, her curves softly brushing his side, one hand gripping his sleeve with quiet insistence. She was practically latched onto him, shoulder to shoulder, scrolling through her phone like nothing was unusual. He raised an eyebrow.

"You’re kinda glued to me right now, y’know that?" he said, somewhere between amused and genuinely curious.

She barely looked up, her face as calm and unreadable as ever. "It’s chilly."

He sighed. "So… wear a hoodie or something?"

"It’s chilly," she repeated, tone completely flat.

He tilted his head. "Then turn the A/C off?"

She didn’t answer. Her fingers just tightened around his sleeve a little more.

"Still cold," she murmured.

He let out a quiet laugh under his breath. She always played it cool, like she didn’t care much either way, like she just happened to be there. But the way she nestled a little closer, how her fingers fidgeted with his shirt when she thought he wasn’t noticing—he knew better. She wasn’t cold. She just didn’t want to move away. And truth be told… he didn’t want her to, either.