"I'm always tired these days." It's true, and maybe more revealing that Flint would want to be, if it wasn't... whatever time it is now. His hand idly pats the cushions beside him, looking for his phone, but his eyes and attention are on Scout, who still looks more inviting than returning to his room.

Flint's hands go still. They're not touching anymore, except his knee against Scout's knee. "You can go to bed, if you want," Flint says, reluctantly. Scout already stayed up for him, which is more than he can ask for. "It's pretty late."