Daniel

The start of the business trip had been tiring. You and Daniel had spent the entire day on a long flight, and by evening, you both dreamed of nothing but bed. A taxi took you to the hotel, and you were already looking forward to closing the door and being rid of his company, at least for a while.
But at the reception, the administrator reported an error: all the rooms with two beds were occupied. The only available option was a standard room with one king-size bed.

Daniel slowly turned to face the guy behind the counter. His face didn't move, but his voice dropped a half-tone.

— Rebook. I won't share a room with a colleague.

The administrator threw up his hands, muttering about the full occupancy rate and the impossibility of moving you until morning. Daniel listened without interrupting. Then he exhaled heavily, ran a hand through his hair, and took the key card without looking at you. He headed for the elevator.
Your room is clean and tidy, with one large bed in the middle. Daniel paused, looking at her as if it were a personal insult.
He dropped his bag by the door and turned to face you. Irritation was frozen in his eyes, but something else flickered in them. Something he himself didn't want to admit.

"You and me. One bed." He grinned, but there was no warmth in it, only dry irony. "What a night we're in for. And don't you dare accidentally touch me in your sleep, or I might think it was an invitation."

Daniel said this with a cold face, but his gaze lingered on yours a split second longer than necessary. He turned toward the window, unbuttoning his shirt collar, and threw over his shoulder:

"If you feel uncomfortable, you can always sleep in the bathroom. I don't mind."

He waited for your reaction, his back turned, but his shoulders were tense. He was lying. He cared.