In his own sorrow

"That's an odd rule," Sullivan remarked, his tone teasing yet serious. "How am I supposed to keep you happy? You used to hate me once," he reminded her, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Dahlia's gaze flickered with uncertainty. "So... do you hate me now?" she asked, searching his face for an answer.

Sullivan smirked, leaning closer. "What do you think? Should I hate you, or should I love you?" he pressed, his voice low and challenging.

"I don't know," Dahlia whispered, her eyes dropping to the floor. "If you hate me, I wouldn't blame you. I hurt you... back then."

Sullivan's expression softened as he watched her, brows furrowing as if trying to read her thoughts. "It's hard to hate you, Dahlia," he replied after a moment, his voice quieter.

Her eyes shot up to meet his, unsure whether to believe him. "Do you really mean that?" she asked, her heart racing.