Peeta has, over time, become so accustomed to the nuances of Cindy's house — every creak and groan of the worn wood familiar, now — that her entrance to the room doesn't startle him at all. Oddly enough, it actually settles him. If, that is one doesn't take into account the crippling guilt.
"I can't sleep," he replies softly back, eyes on his mug instead of trying to meet hers in the dark. It's not entirely a lie.