the best that you could hope for
Leslie/Ann, Nyx, 146 words.
“I’m cold,” Leslie says, huddling into a ball under the comforter she’s all but stolen. Stolen from Ann’s bed in Ann’s house, where the electricity — and therefore heat — is still working.
“Obviously.” Ann tugs her side over.
“Can you get me a blanket? Another one? The one with the fuzzies?”
“Just come here, Leslie.” Ann doesn’t wait, she slides towards the heat-radiating lump of Leslie, tugging at the blanket, letting herself in to the cocoon. It’s strange, how her body reacts to being this close. It’s just been too long, she thinks, and She could be anyone.
Only she couldn’t.
The little sigh she makes when Ann tucks the comforter around them, her body flush against Leslie’s, front to back, heat settling in around them in their little nest.
“Just come here,” Ann says again, though they couldn’t get any closer, “and I’ll keep you warm.”
