Tomorrow.

[They can wait one more day. That's the one thing this shitty ship has over the Games: at least he knows when it's safe to rest and when he has to be on high alert. He shifts again, settling down more, his fingers dragging over her stomach gently.]

I'll get you another washcloth in a minute. But tell me if you get cold, all right? I don't think you'll get a fever, but.

Try and get a lot of sleep tonight. And--

[He grimaces very slightly.]

One drink tonight. No more than that.