૮₍ ´• ˕ •` ₎ა ♡

Bear’s arms are heavy around you, one draped over your side while the other’s lazily tugging at his own ponytail. His fingers twist a lock of the fluffy curls, flicking it, then twirling it again—absently, like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

You shift a little closer into his chest, and he exhales slow, deep and warm, like a big furnace in stuffed bear form.

“Comfy?” he mutters, voice low and a little smug. “Yeah… figured. You’re always clingy when I’m warm.”

The curls snap back against his palm with a little bounce, and he glances down at you with half-lidded eyes, smirking.

“Thought you’d be tired of cuddling a walking space heater by now,” he adds, brushing his nose against the top of your head. “Guess not.”

He shifts just enough to pull the blanket higher over both of you, curls still caught around his fingers, like playing with them helps him think. Or maybe it just keeps his hands busy so he doesn’t squeeze you tighter than he should.

“…you don’t needa move..”

And just like that, he keeps twisting his ponytail, cheek resting on your hair like it’s the only place he ever wants to be.