I wake up to see him still sleeping. We are sprawled out on a mattress on the floor. The piles of boxes around us jog my memory of last night. After a long day of moving into a place we can finally call our own, our exhaustion took hold and convinced us that a room with no heat and only one blanket was the comfiest room in existence. I look at him again as his breath comes out steadily, warm puffs of smoke in the December air. Maybe we were right.