Silence stretched for a beat, the fire crackling low between us.
Then Lucas shifted lazily in his chair, smirking.
"So..." he said.
"Let's get some sleep?"
I blinked at him.
"Yeah. Let's... do that."
I stood, moving toward the narrow bed without hesitation.
Lucas made no move to leave the chair.
I pointed sharply.
"You'll sleep on the floor."
His smirk widened.
"Why? I'm not the one who paid for just one room."
I crossed my arms.
"We needed one room to plan and move faster. That doesn't mean you get the bed."
He lounged back in the chair, grinning infuriatingly.
"Exactly. So maybe you should sleep on the floor."
I scowled.
"We are not debating this."
"We already are," he said, far too pleased with himself.
We argued for another few minutes —
quiet, sharp exchanges under our breath, trying not to draw attention through the thin walls.
In the end, Lucas grumbled something under his breath and spread out a blanket on the floor near the hearth.
