A part of it

"You're right, we are," Dahlia admitted softly, her gaze locking with his once more. "I thought you were tired," she added, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Weren't you?" Sullivan countered, his tone playful but curious.

"I was," Dahlia murmured, her cheeks flushing as she looked away for a moment. "But you're not exactly letting me sleep," she confessed, her voice quieter now, almost shy.

"You started it," Sullivan teased, resting his head on the pillow beside hers. His fingers grazed through her hair gently, his touch soft yet deliberate, as his eyes held hers with a tender intensity. "You hugged me first."

"Only to keep us warm," Dahlia protested weakly, her face heating up even more. She turned away to hide her blush, pulling the duvet higher over her shoulders as if to shield herself from the growing tension between them.

"Then keep your hands off me if you don't want me to start," Sullivan warned, his voice laced with teasing frustration.