He picked up the extra blanket from the edge of the bed and dropped it onto the floor. She didn't need to tell him twice - he was exhausted.
A closet on the other side of the room yielded an extra pillow, and he dropped that on the floor as well, curling up with the blanket. He was perfectly content to sleep on the floor, really. Sleep in enough alleys and under enough awnings and dumpster edges, and a carpeted floor seemed luxurious. Particularly when one was already tired and sore. The girl was fine, and nothing could happen until he got some rest.
The girl. "What's your name?" he thought. He had to get that before he fell asleep, at least.