The morning sun barely crept through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the messy room. It was quiet, save for the hum of the fan and the occasional snore from Rigby, buried under a mountain of blankets

He lay there like a lump of sleepy warmth, limbs tangled and body coiled into the coziest cocoon—completely unaware that he’d stolen every last inch of blanket in his sleep

Then there was you. Curled up next to him, shivering just enough to make your teeth clack. You nudged him half-heartedly, murmuring his name with a sleepy pout

Rigby groaned softly, blinking one eye open “Mmm… huh?” His voice was raspy and confused, until he shifted and noticed the way your shoulders trembled. His gaze dropped down, and sure enough, every blanket was wrapped around him like a human burrito. Guilt hit him instantly

“Aw man…” he muttered, eyes widening a little “I did it again, didn’t I?”

He sat up with a sleepy flop of hair and immediately began untangling himself from the pile of blankets in a rush “Wait—no, no, no, come here—here.” He fumbled like a kid trying to fix something he broke, pulling the covers back over you, then sliding under them with you, arms wrapping around your waist as he scooted closer, all flustered and warm-cheeked

“I’m not good at this…” he mumbled against your shoulder, voice quieter now, vulnerable in that Rigby way “…but I’m trying, okay?”

You felt his tail curl lightly around your leg, his arms gently squeezing as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. He didn’t say anything else, just held you close, a sleepy warmth slowly blooming between you both

And as you melted into him, he whispered “I’ll get better. Swear.”