What do you do on a cold night?

You spot a petite figure curled against the dim light, skin warm where the cold outside has no reach.

You feel the pull immediately — the curve of a bare shoulder, the way the sheets fall just low enough to make your breath catch. You want to close the distance between you and that softness, to press your mouth against the hollow of a throat and feel the pulse quicken beneath your lips.

You already know the answer to the question. You stay. You sink into the heat of another body, and the cold night outside stops existing entirely.