She looks unsure but... he's right, she is a hazard to others stumbling around the halls like this. And if she does decide to leave anyway, she wouldn't put it past him to try and follow, and the whole point was that he sleep at some point, so... no. So she picks up her discarded sweater and shrugs it on, meandering in a weaving sort of way bed-wards.

At least, she tells herself, that this way he's less likely to see the blush she can feel burning across her cheeks.