Morning light filtered through the curtains as you shivered awake.

“Nope,” you muttered, tugging at the blanket—only to find it trapped in the iron grip of one Bruce Wayne, burritoed in your entire duvet.

“Bruce,” you hissed, trying to peel a corner off.

He groaned without opening his eyes. “Cold. Mine now.”

“You’re the one who radiates body heat like a damn furnace! Why are you even using a blanket?!”

“To protect you from me. It’s noble, really.”

You finally managed to tug a bit loose, collapsing next to him in triumph. “You’re a villain.”

He peeked one eye open. “A very warm villain.”

“Give me an inch of blanket or I’ll microwave my socks and wear them in bed.”

He blinked. “You’re terrifying.”

You snuggled closer. “And cold. Scoot over.”

He wrapped an arm around you. “I guess I can spare a little warmth.”

You smirked. “Generous Bat.”