"See, I told you it's an angry language. Lots of ichs and eins and unds. But okay, we can confine the weird, random French things you know to just you and me, I'm good with that. Mein Französisch liebling." He knows he should let her sleep, there's a voice in the back of his mind that's telling him he's being selfish keeping her up like this. He sees her attempt at holding back the yawn, should just stop talking altogether or pretend he's asleep so she can drift off on her own, but it's hard to give this up. She anchors him, calms his nerves even when she's causing his heart to beat a little faster, is there for him in ways she probably doesn't even realize.

"You should go back to sleep," he finally tells her, lightly running his hand up and down her arm. "See if you dream in German, maybe you'll wake up just knowing what the things I've said mean."