Warmth was something Mark Cohen had always cherished, and he could prove that. Although there was usually no heat in the loft, he'd stocked it well with blankets, as well as that Snuggie thing Roger had wanted. Usually Mark's general line of thinking was something like "I'd rather be sweating than freezing"; he found it unusual, then, when it was a perfectly nice spring morning, and he still couldn't get warm. In fact, he was shivering under a ton of blankets, and he didn't want to know why.
Roger pushed aside the curtain separating his room from the main part of the loft, got out a chipped bowl, and poured in some cereal. Opening the fridge, he saw that there was no milk inside.
"Yo, Mark, where's the milk?" he called.
"Screw milk, I'm cold…" Mark muttered from under the covers on the couch.
"What was that, buddy?" Roger asked, looking around the rest of the room and… not seeing anyone. "Mark?"
"Under here," Mark sighed. He stuck a hand out from the pile of blankets and waved.
"Oh. Where's the milk?"
"We don't have any."
"Darn. Do you think you could run out and get some?"
"No, Roger. I'm really cold…"
"Oh. I guess that's why you're under those blank—wait, it's spring. You're not supposed to be cold, Mark."
"Sorry…?"
"Oh, it's alright. I'll just go get some myself."
The rocker exited the loft, leaving Mark to shiver. Sometimes he could be so dense.
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A/N: I love making Roger stupid xD R&R!