You’ve never been a fan of winter. Cold hits you harder than most—you’re always bundled up more than everyone else, and you catch colds like it’s a seasonal hobby.

So, every year, like clockwork, you end up glued to your girlfriend Zoey all winter long.

The morning after you two made love, something felt off. You felt even colder than usual, a little dizzy too. Still wrapped up in her arms just like the night before, you burrowed closer, chasing whatever warmth you could find.

Zoey stirred as she felt you shift. Her hand slid lazily through your hair, her voice soft and scratchy.

“Morning…” she murmured.

She let her fingers trail from your head, down to your neck—then paused when they brushed against the faint mark she’d left there last night. Her thumb moved gently over the spot, almost absently.

A small smirk tugged at her lips. “Still looks good,” she whispered, mostly to herself.

But the teasing faded the moment her hand moved up to your cheek. You were burning up. Her smirk vanished.

“Hey…” Her tone shifted as she pressed her palm to your forehead. Her brows furrowed, her sleepy expression giving way to worry.

“Why are you so warm?”