Chell stirred lightly as somewhere in the house a clock struck two.
She blinked, blearily taking in her surroundings as her senses came back to life. There was a chill in the early morning air, and thick, muffled winter silence filled the room.
Well... Almost.
Soft snoring could be heard from behind her, where her companion was curled up in a ball, lightly pressed against her back in an attempt to keep warm.
Chell smiled as she turned to see Wheatley snuggled up against her, sleeping soundly with a light smile on his face. Had he known that Chell was awake, or had Wheatley been awake himself, he would have scrambled away from her so quickly that he likely would have thrown himself off the bed. But he wasn't awake, and he was very, very close to her.
Earlier on in their relationship (aka after he had been thrown back into her nice quiet life by a sassy homicidal supercomputer), Wheatley would have received a hearty knuckle sandwich for being within ten feet of Chell, but, strangely, his closeness didn't bother her now.
Not that she had initiated it.
About a week or so ago there had been a terrible thunder storm that had sent the sleeping man next to her whimpering outside her door like a lost puppy. Chell couldn't take it for longer than five minutes and had let him in. He had been sleeping in Chell's room since, and, oddly enough, she didn't really mind.
This time of year the morning air was sharp and frigid, after all, this was winter in the upper peninsula of Michigan: it was brutally cold. But Wheatley was like a little furnace, and when he cuddled up next to her in that slightly annoying yet strangely adorable way (like he was doing now), it made the world seem a little less cold. There was no harm in letting him sleep in here with her.
With one more smile towards the sleeping man next to her Chell burrowed back down into her nest of blankets and snuggled up against him.