Frank isn't sure he likes the sound of that - it's fatalistic in a way, which he usually wouldn't have a problem with, necessarily, but when he thinks about this coming to an end it aches. It hurts in that dull way the loss of his family still does.

"I thought you wanted to sleep," he points out helplessly, ignoring that she's asking for what he wants. It's not something he can put into words anyway. He twines their fingers and leans in closer, his big nose brushing hers. "Give me a hint at least."