It wasn’t surprising that Screwllum was cold considering he’s made out if various metals but every time you slid in bed next to him, you couldn’t help the small jolt from wracking your frame At the sudden temperature.

"Question: is there a sufficient amount of blankets, my dear?” He asks, his voice soft. But as you lay here, his steady arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on the top of your head as your face lays on his collarbone, you find that you don’t mind the cold.