She is the snuggliest of the two. She's the one who will plant herself at my feet while I'm typing or washing dishes or measuring out ingredients and look up, mewing plaintively.
Last night at some point I woke up when she slammed her little body against my head, purring loudly, and flopped there on my pillow to sleep. A little violent, but sweet.
A bit later I was awakened by the sensation of a hundred tiny needles poking gently at half of my skull. First some near the top of my head, and then some near my ear. Back and forth, back and forth. And purring. Loud purring. They didn't hurt – the needles – it was almost theraputic.
I lay there, not moving, while a sleeping kitten kneaded my head and purred in my ear.