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A little before noon was after breakfast and before patrol, a window of a few hours that Evan generally reserved for grabbing whatever sleep he could manage. Real, true, REM sleep was difficult for him to achieve without the aid of some kind of herbal or chemical intervention; he mostly lived off of naps where and when he could get them, which had, in the past, led to him waking up in some interesting places--but that day, he did happen to be in. In his bed, which he nearly rolled out of as he was suddenly jolted from sleep.

His fight or flight response--almost always attuned to the former--took a moment to kick in and left him confused when it subsided. Was that Nora? Why was she always waking him up? Evan blearily rolled out of bed, making it to the door before remembering, just in time, that he wasn't wearing pants. He doubled back to rectify that before opening the door.

"Morning, Constable," Evan said, grinning blearily down at her. "What's up?"

Evan was happy to let the girls look their fill, mostly because he was still too dazed to realize it was happening. "I don't sleep much at once, so I take it where I can get it," Evan admitted, his smile growing as he realized Nora intended to take him up on the offer he had made in the desert. He nodded opened the door wider and stepped back to let her in.

"So, this is the room," Evan said, gesturing grandly. "That's the bed, there's a closet, and we even have a window," he gushed with exaggerated excitement. The room was spartan to the extreme. There were no personal effects on the dresser, no posters on the wall, very little to indicate that anyone lived here beyond the rumpled sheets and a pair of boots lined up against the wall. "Feel free to put your stuff anywhere. Do you need help bringing anything up?"

"Oh, they exist all right," Evan said, happy to play along. "Sometimes they even have actual glass in them when someone or something isn't blowing them all out. Just because we're up here doesn't mean we get to have nice things." Though really, he'd much rather be up here than down there. His nightmares didn't need the help.

He shrugged at her assessment of the room. "I have everything I need in here." Most of it was squirreled away, out of sight of prying eyes, like the bottles of alcohol duct taped to the bottom of the dresser and the underside of the bed and the other, less legal contraband hidden inside one of the legs of the desk. "Maybe it just needs a woman's touch."

"I don't," Evan replied regretfully, "but I don't sleep much. A few hours here and there. I don't mind sharing if you don't," and he even managed to maintain an innocent expression while he said it, "but I was serious about the cuddling. I don't even realize I'm doing it most of the time. If it's a problem, I can sleep on the floor or on one of the common room couches or something."

He chuckled as she dropped her bag, moving over to the closet. "Feel free to put your stuff anywhere," he said, "but be careful in here." He opened the door, revealing a couple of button-down shirts hanging from the bar, a few pairs of shoes that ranged from flip flops to combat boots, and, his pride and joy, a mini fridge. It was runiced and had what looked like a small, rectangular piece of clay on top of it. That was runiced, too, and a number of wires and strings ran from it to the fridge. "It's rigged to blow if it's not opened right, and I'm not sure it won't go off if it's jostled too much. Don't want either of us to have to find out the hard way."

Evan smiled brightly as Nora looked between him and the fridge. "You're welcome," he said seriously. "If you ask nice, I'll show you how to open it without blowing your hands off. If you ask really nice, I may even let you use it." The highest and rarest of honors, as no one other than himself, Nora, and some confused Life techs even knew it existed.

He stepped away to hunt up a shirt out of the dresser, pausing to look up at Nora with a raised eyebrow. "Army," he scoffed disdainfully. "Please. United States Marine Corps," he replied with no small hint of pride, gesturing to the tattoo on his arm of the eagle, globe and anchor that was the traditional symbol of that branch of the military. "We eat Army grunts as part of a balanced breakfast."

"Close: half a cheesecake and some beer, some meats and other stuff that probably wouldn't last an hour in the common fridge in the kitchen." Evan was all for sharing, and most of the food he brought back did wind up in the kitchen fridge, but it wasn't a crime to want to hold a few things back.

Evan pulled on a shirt and hesitated at Nora's question. He liked her well enough--more than well enough, to offer to share the contents and space of his room and his fridge--but he wasn't ready to share his history with her. That belonged to him, and him alone. "Everyone has to be somewhere, Constable," he replied, the smile he aimed at her meant to both charm and disarm. "You got anything you need help bringing up? I'm not much for interior decorating, obviously, but I can manage some heavy lifting."

Nora's lack of a follow-up was a welcome relief for Evan. His reasons for being there were deeply personal, and as much as he liked Nora--and he did, a lot, enough to show her the fridge--there were some things he wasn't ready, willing, or able to talk about with anyone. "Yeah?" He asked to cover it up. "Sure you don't want to bring up any of those manacles? Purely for decoration, of course."

A glance around the room showed him a limited amount of space and fewer possibilities. Even with as little space as Evan and lack of stuff took up, shoving anything else as big as furniture in the room was going to be tricky. "We may be able to get something from the quartermaster. A twin might fit if we shove the two beds together. A queen-sized bed would probably be our best bet--it's a little longer, but not as wide across as a twin and a full together. I don't know if we'd be able to find one here, though. Might have to go to the mainland for that."

He shrugged; they would figure it out if cuddling, for whatever reason, wasn't the right answer. "Either way, I'm not going to let you sleep on the floor. My parents raised me better than that, believe it or not."