Any other night and Rose would have felt nervous, excited, or weird. She was going to sleep in a twenty year old boy's bedroom. None of her friends could boast similar conquests. But Rose was mentally and emotionally exhausted and her mind was elsewhere. She barely picked up on Gar's discomfort.
But she did notice the bedroom, which was a sign of how much she'd improved since she'd arrived. Later on, she'd only be able to remember that his living room had a couch and the color of the walls. She actually paid attention to his bedroom, noticing how things seemed rather tidy and comfortable. It wasn't at all what Rose had expected.
"It doesn't matter," she said softly. Turning, she looked at him for a moment before climbing into the bed. The blankets and pillows held Gar's scent and that was a comfort. The scent of blood wouldn't quite go away, but it was slightly overpowered by his smell.