The weight of her arm is heavy across your chest—warm, solid, and unmoving, like a tree limb grown just for this purpose. Applejack sleeps like a bear in hibernation, breath deep and even, tank top rumpled, her boxers hitched slightly from where she must’ve kicked off the sheets in the night. She’s wrapped around you like the world’s sturdiest blanket, one leg draped over yours, her cheek pressed to your shoulder, breath tickling your skin.