Richard was too tired to argue. He was hot, and he could feel a headache coming on. Richard pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing at the corners of his eyes and tried to think of an argument. He couldn't. She was right that there was no way he'd get any actual sleep in a chair, but he'd wanted to try, and he didn't want her going back to her room. Not when she would be out of his sight.

He didn't answer her, just finally crawled his way up to the pillows and laid down. It was a gesture of defeat. Alex had won this argument; he didn't have it in him to continue, and he didn't want to walk out. It seemed a bit too childish this time.