He's impossibly warm, she realizes as he nudges them flush. Or perhaps that's her, and in either case, she's not going to complain. Her fingers find the opening in his armor, the sole open line that rests against his spine, and somehow resists the urge to touch that bit of skin.

"No," she breathes, surprised to hear herself. Hawke presses her hand to his back once more in reassurance. "No, they're all sleeping." But Sandal is prone to wandering in the middle of the night, and somehow that makes staying where they are rather unappealing.

She turns her head and kisses near his jaw, catching his gaze. "We can go upstairs, if you'd like."