"I want no breakfast, I want to go back to my dreams," Vasquez says grumpily, in enough of a mood that he says that instead of just hinting around the topic. He hauls at his coat again, even though he doesn't lay down just yet, because he doesn't want to go back to sleep now that he's past paranoid about the things he might say.

"Go back to sleep, querido," Vasquez sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, aware that this is going to come to a head some day. He knows he could take a horse, pack his things, escape now, but he's too selfish to want to give up a single moment when he doesn't have to.

Lying back down, he positions himself so that he can face Faraday only a little, in such a way that he sees only a sliver of him like this. "Next time, let me sleep. If this is so you think you can win our bet, you won't," he promises. "I am going to be the one with victory."