We share the blanket, on this cold night, pulling it over our heads to cocoon us off from the rest of the world. Your hand grazes mine and although we can hear the giggles of the others around the fire it’s as if there is only you, next to me. My silly joke stutters on my lips as, eyes already closing, I realize you haven’t moved your hand and you’re looking at me, half sitting up, strangely still and silent.

I shiver but even the cold can’t keep me awake, so I smile up at you as if to say sorry; sorry I can’t stay awake anymore, sorry I can’t reply to your nonsense comment. You collapse next to me, closer than before, and our heads knock. It’s the last thing I register before sleep, and the feel of your hand, brushing against mine.

Later, I hear snoring. The others must have finally given up their revels and slept, but this snore was prehistoric. I try to smother a laugh and hear an identical suppressed chuckle from you and a whisper. I can’t see you in the dark, but I can feel our fingers intertwined.