"I will," he promises, delighted by the very idea of it. He has never known the warmth of sleeping next to someone close like this; the nearest experience being the nights he spent on Courfeyrac's floor back in Paris. He gladly moves closer, letting one arm drape over Rat's neck, his hand resting in the other's hair.

"Sleep sounds good," he mumbles against Rat's neck, where he nuzzles his head like a turtle digging into the sand.

Tomorrow would be another day; no doubt, one rife with trying to interpret tonight.

But for now, Marius is happy to let it be.