Somewhere in the vague and bleary hours closer to morning than midnight, I realized I was cold. I was curled up on my side, and my brain had just about registered "cold" but was not yet awake enough to process cause-and-effect stuff like "I'm cold because I've kicked the blankets off, like I usually do," or "hey, if I grabbed the blankets and pulled them up, I wouldn't be cold any more," or "why the hell does the AC in this apartment not have a function between "off" and "sub-zero, anyway?"
Just as the distant tremors of consciousness were starting up--"Why am I cold? What is the meaning of this cold?" Kevin pulled the blankets up, tucked them around my shoulder, wrapped his arms around me and snuggled up against my back. Since he promptly began snoring in my ear, I am not sure if this was a hindbrain function on his part, but it made me feel warm and fuzzy, anyway.