>>42224584
The first light of dawn spills into the room, soft and golden, casting long lines through the gaps in the curtains. It catches the edges of the blanket fort you built with Autumn, turning the pillow walls into glowing fabric towers.

You stir, blinking awake.

For a moment, you don’t move. You’re warm, really warm, and something smells like flowers and cinnamon. You shift slightly and feel fur pressed against your side.

That’s when you realize you’re not alone under the blanket.

Autumn Blaze is curled up against you. Her mane is sprawled across your foreleg, her head resting gently on your chest. You can feel the slow rise and fall of her breathing. You freeze, eyes going wide.

Wait. What.

You’re cuddling.

You’re cuddling Autumn Blaze.

Panic flares in your chest. Your ears fold back, and your face starts to burn. Oh no. Oh no no no. What do I do? You try to slowly inch away, moving like a thief in the night, desperate not to wake her.

You fail.

“Mmm... morning, cuddler,” she mumbles sleepily, eyes barely cracking open.

“I am not a cuddler,” you hiss in a whisper shout, as if someone might hear.

She stretches a little, yawns, and curls back up again. “Sure you’re not. Just naturally snuggly, huh?”

“I- you were the one leaning on me!”

She doesn’t respond. Her eyes are already shut again, but there’s the faintest little smile on her face.

You grumble under your breath and push yourself up as carefully as you can. “You loved it,” you mutter teasingly, not expecting an answer.

“Mm-hmm.”

You freeze.

That wasn’t a joke.

You glance over, but she’s not looking at you. She’s already drifting back off, muzzle nestled into the blanket with that soft, contented smile still clinging to her lips.

You stand there for a second, stunned, ears twitching as your face burns even hotter. Then you shake your head and turn toward the hallway door.

You need to use the bathroom.

And probably dunk your entire head in cold water.

Maybe twice.

After finishing in the bathroom and washing your hooves, you step back into the hallway. That’s when a familiar scent catches your nose, something warm and a little sweet, mixed with something sizzling. Your ears perk.

Is that breakfast?

You follow the smell down the stairs, and sure enough, you find Summer Blaze in the kitchen. She stands at the stove, her mane pulled up into a loose braid as she flips something in a pan. There’s a small pot of oats bubbling nearby, and slices of fruit laid out on a cutting board.

She turns and spots you.

“Well, good morning, sleepyhead,” she says with a warm smile. “You’re up earlier than I thought.”

You rub the back of your neck with a hoof, still a little sheepish. “Kinda hard to stay asleep when someone’s drooling on your shoulder.”

Summer laughs, the sound light and easy. “Ah, that sounds like my Autumn. Hope she didn’t kick you in her sleep too, she used to do that all the time.”