She woke up in his arms again. She hated when that happened. His body felt like a hot, sweaty trap. This was not a slight against him; she always overheated when she slept, which was made even worse when someone wanted to cuddle. The feeling of confinement only added to her discomfort. She had two options here: she could stay still and try to fall back to sleep in his arms, or she could be selfish and move, which would invariably wake him up. She decided to be selfish.
She tried to move very slightly, a little at a time. She didn't want to wake him, of course, but he was a light sleeper. She managed to wriggle free from one arm when she heard him groan. She froze as he started to shift and then resumed after he had settled. She had just managed to detangle herself completely when his eyes opened. She gave him an apologetic look and moved over to her own side. The freedom she felt was completely worth it.