At 11:47 PM, Noa realized something was wrong.
She had already brushed her teeth, changed into her oversized sleep shirt, and claimed exactly 51% of the bed.
Then she heard Ren whisper, "...Is it just me or is it freezing in here?"
She turned. "It's not just you."
He was wrapped in a hoodie, socks, and what appeared to be a towel scarf.
"I think the AC broke," he said, voice muffled by layers.
"You think?"
He pointed to the blinking red light on the wall unit.
She sighed and grabbed the phone.
—
Ten minutes later, she hung up.
"The hotel said the technician's only available tomorrow."
Ren blinked. "So we freeze to death tonight."
"They offered to move us," Noa said. "But only to another single-bed room."
They stared at each other.
Then at the single, lonely blanket between them.
Ren slowly picked it up. "We could cut it in half?"
Noa deadpanned, "And what, tape it back together in the morning?"
He grinned. "I'm just trying to survive."
"Then stop hogging it."
They both tugged the blanket at once—like two raccoons fighting over trash.
Eventually, a truce was declared.
One blanket. One bed. Two humans pretending this was still fine.
—
At 1:13 AM, Noa couldn't sleep.
She had pulled the blanket entirely over her body like a burrito, but her toes were still cold.
Then she felt movement.
Ren shifted beside her, reaching blindly in the dark.
"Sorry," he whispered, "just trying to—"
His hand brushed hers under the blanket.
They both froze.
The room went very, very quiet.
"I was reaching for the edge," he mumbled.
"You grabbed my fingers."
"I was… uh... lost?"
"You lost your hand?"
"I lost my dignity days ago."
Noa stayed still.
Then, without really thinking, she didn't pull her hand away.
Neither did he.
—
They stayed like that—awkwardly, silently, fingers barely touching.
Not holding hands. Not quite.
But enough.
Enough to feel something they couldn't explain.
Enough to know that sleep would not be easy tonight.
Not because of the cold.
But because of whatever *this* was.
And whatever it was becoming.