This is the first time I have seen her smiling at her dreams. She looks amused and she sighs when I rearrange myself, freeing my sleeping legs and spilling some tea on the duvet. I curse in whispers, attempting to mop up the stain but too lethargic to find a cloth in the kitchen. It's four o'clock, I've been sitting here, watching her for over an hour, and I have to wake up at seven. Slipping beneath the covers, I weave myself around her, she shudders when despite my best efforts, my cool toes touch her calves, but curls into me, trapping my leg between her own.
Her warmth is soporific, her sleep, infectious.