Frank watched the man approaching, effortlessly striding down the room. But perhaps Murdock had been here, learnt the easy layout of the room, knew how many paces to his bed-yet he was trusting. O one had left anything on the floor, and that seemed dumb.
Of course Frank had had no way of knowing the bed beside him was occupied. He had no way of knowing who was sleeping there. That it was Murdock didn't bother him particularly, unless he was going to fall asleep to lectures on the law and how Frank was a disappointment.
"It's me," he said quietly, resuming his fiddling, his attention back on the bed above his. "It's Frank," he clarified, in case Murdock couldn't tell from his voice. "Just pretend I'm not here. I don't make a lot of noise." At least not when he was awake.