[Three hours later]
"Argh—why the hell can’t I fall asleep?" Anna jolted upright on the bed and huffed, pushing her hair back from her face.
She glanced at the clock. Three hours. Three very long, very annoying hours of tossing, turning, flipping pillows, and glaring at the ceiling like it had personally offended her.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered.
She lay back down, stared at the ceiling for exactly five seconds, then sat up again.
Her mind, traitor that it was, drifted straight to Daniel.
"Did I make a mistake letting him take the other room?" she whispered to herself.
Her eyes slid toward the couch across the room. It looked innocent enough, but compared to Daniel’s height, it was basically a decorative piece. Uncomfortable. Criminally small.
"And the floor..." she grimaced. "Okay no. That would’ve been too cruel. I’m not a monster."
She flopped back down dramatically, pulling the blanket over her head.
He agreed so easily, she thought. Too easily.
No arguing. No dramatic sighs. No shaless attempts to seduce his way back into bed. That alone should’ve told her sothing was wrong.
She peeked out from under the blanket and groaned.
"This is supposed to be his punishnt. Why am I the one suffering?"
Anna rolled onto her side, hugging a pillow, then imdiately rolled back. Nope. Still wide awake. Still thinking about how quiet the house felt without him beside her. Still annoyed that she cared.
She sat up again, glaring at the closed door to his room as if it might glare back.
"Ugh. Fine," she muttered, throwing the blanket aside. "I’ll just... check."
She froze. Check. On him. Just to make sure he wasn’t, you know... sleeping on the floor out of stubborn guilt. Or worse, pretending to be fine while actually suffering.
"This is purely humanitarian," she told herself as she slid out of bed. "Concern. Nothing else."
Barefoot, she padded down the hallway, stopping in front of his door. She raised her hand to knock, then hesitated.
What if he’s asleep?
What if he opens the door shirtless?
Her brain imdiately supplied an image, completely unhelpful and highly distracting.
"Get it together, Anna," she whispered, knocking lightly.
No response.
She knocked again, a little louder. "Daniel?"
Still nothing.
Her brows furrowed. "Don’t tell he actually fell asleep."
She turned the handle slowly and peeked inside.
The room was dim, lit only by the bedside lamp. Daniel wasn’t on the bed.
Her heart skipped.
"Daniel?" she called again, stepping in.
Then she saw him.
He was sprawled on the floor, using a folded blanket as a pillow, one arm tossed over his eyes, his tall fra clearly uncomfortable even in sleep. His shirt was rumpled, hair slightly ssy, expression relaxed in a way that made her chest tighten.
Her anger deflated instantly.
"You idiot," she whispered, crouching beside him. "You actually did it."
She watched him for a mont, conflicted emotions waging war inside her. Guilt. Fondness. Irritation. Affection she was not ready to admit.
She nudged his shoulder lightly. "Daniel."
No reaction.
She sighed, then a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.
"This punishnt has officially gone too far," she murmured.
Straightening, she crossed her arms, decision made.
"Get up," she said firmly, even though he was still asleep.
Because one thing was clear.
There was no way she was getting any sleep tonight like this.
....
Daniel didn’t move when she spoke.
Anna frowned, hands on her hips. "Don’t tell you’re ignoring now," she muttered, nudging his shoulder again with her foot. "Daniel. Get. Up."
Still nothing.
She crouched lower, squinting at his face. His breathing was steady, lashes resting against his cheeks, expression far too peaceful for soone supposedly being punished.
"Unbelievable," she whispered. "Sleeping like a prince on the floor while I’m suffering from insomnia."
She reached out and poked his cheek. Harder this ti.
That’s when his arm suddenly shot up.
Before Anna could react, Daniel grabbed her wrist and tugged. With a startled yelp, she lost her balance and fell forward, landing half on top of him, her palms braced against his chest.
"Daniel!" she gasped. "What the—"
His eyes opened slowly, far too amused for soone who had just been "asleep."
"Good evening, wifey," he said lazily.
Her eyes widened. "You were pretending?"
He shrugged, one arm securely wrapped around her waist to keep her from escaping. "You told to sleep on the floor. You didn’t say I couldn’t enjoy the view."
She tried to push herself up, but he tightened his hold just enough to keep her there.
"Let go," she hissed. "This is cheating."
"You ca into my room," he countered calmly. "Late at night. Concern written all over your face. I rely responded."
"I ca to check if you were alive," she snapped. "Not to be kidnapped."
Daniel tilted his head, studying her flushed face. "You look very alive to ."
She glared at him. "You are impossible."
"And yet," he murmured, "here you are."
Anna tried once more to move away, but her hand slipped against his shirt, and she froze, suddenly aware of how close they were. His arm was warm around her back, steady and firm. Too familiar. Too dangerous.
"This isn’t fair," she said quietly.
Daniel’s teasing expression softened just a little. "Neither is you losing sleep because of ."
She looked away. "I wasn’t—"
"You were," he said gently. "You always are."
That made her pause.
He shifted slightly so she was more comfortable, still on top of him, but no longer struggling. "I didn’t sleep," he added. "Not really. I just didn’t want to push you."
Her brows knit. "Then why stay on the floor?"
"Because you asked," he replied simply.
The sincerity in his voice disard her more than his teasing ever could.
She exhaled slowly. "You’re not supposed to make this harder."
Daniel smiled faintly. "I know."
For a mont, neither of them spoke. The room was quiet, the tension soft and heavy at the sa ti. Anna’s gaze drifted back to his face, to the familiar lines she knew so well.
"You still owe ," she said.
"I know," he answered.
She leaned back just enough to look at him properly. "And this doesn’t an you’re forgiven."
"I wouldn’t dare assu that," he said.
Her hand slid up to his shoulder, not pushing him away this ti. His breath hitched slightly, eyes darkening as he noticed the change.
"Anna," he murmured, a warning and a plea wrapped together.
She hesitated only a second before leaning down.
Their lips t softly at first, hesitant, like a question neither of them spoke out loud.
Then Daniel’s hand ca up to cradle her face, deepening the kiss just enough to make her forget the floor, the punishnt, and the long sleepless night altogether.
Daniel’s hand stayed cupped against her cheek, warm and steady, as if grounding both of them. The kiss lingered, soft at first, almost tentative, before slowly deepening. It wasn’t rushed. It was the kind of kiss that carried everything they hadn’t said out loud.
Anna’s fingers curled into his shirt, gripping the fabric as if letting go might make her lose balance all over again. Her annoyance, her resolve, her carefully planned punishnt all lted under the quiet intensity of the mont.
"This," she murmured against his lips, breath uneven, "doesn’t an you’re forgiven."
Daniel smiled faintly, his forehead resting against hers. "I’ll take progress."
He shifted slightly, careful, unhurried, so she was no longer awkwardly balanced. His hands slid to her waist, not pulling, not demanding, just there. Present. The closeness made her pulse thrum louder in her ears.
Anna swallowed. "You’re enjoying this far too much."
"I’m enjoying you," he corrected softly.
That did it.
She leaned in again, this ti without hesitation, kissing him with more certainty. Daniel responded imdiately, his restraint thinning. His thumb traced slow, absent patterns along her side, sending a shiver up her spine that she absolutely refused to acknowledge out loud.
"You planned all of this, didn’t you?" she accused quietly between kisses.
He chuckled under his breath. "I planned to sleep on the floor. You’re the one who ca looking for ."
Anna pulled back just enough to glare at him. "Don’t be smug."
His gaze darkened, playful amusent giving way to sothing deeper. "Then don’t look at like that."
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again when his lips brushed along her jaw, unhurried, deliberate. It wasn’t demanding. It was patient. Like he was giving her all the ti in the world to stop him.
She didn’t.
Her hand slid into his hair, fingers tangling there instinctively. The simple touch drew a low breath from him, the sound vibrating against her skin.
"Daniel," she whispered, more a warning than a call.
"I know," he replied, voice low. "We can stop."
She didn’t move away.
The silence between them stretched, heavy and charged. The room felt smaller, warr, filled with shared breaths and unspoken promises. When he kissed her again, it was slower, deeper, as if sealing sothing fragile and precious between them.
Anna finally rested her forehead against his, eyes closed. "You make it very hard to stay mad at you."
"I’ll make it up to you," he said softly. "Every day, if you let ."
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