They had started to have a conversation the night before that had led to a late, though experimental, dinner in her apartment. Na'vi had asked him, when they'd realized how late it was, if Marrow would be willing to allow her to cook for him since she was learning how, and while her stove wasn't large by any measure of means, she was trying to teach herself how to use it. She was certain he was reluctant about it, but somehow he agreed and she'd prepared them a veritable feast of all the little things she'd been learning to prepare, both from the kitchen staff, on her own, and from various people and hides throughout the Weyr on her own free time.
It had turned out well enough that they'd eaten food and chatted during the night, losing track of time as they did so. She didn't even realize it, nor did he seem to, and she found it odd for her to do such a thing. It was odd for her to find such comfort in the company of a man, having thought herself incapable of such a thing long ago, but she thought with Marrow, she thought she might actually grow to like him as more than just a friend. Chinolth, bless his soul, didn't catch onto that thread of thought, for he would know that she already felt that way, and if he did, he might blather away out loud about it, and then she'd be left red faced in front of her friend.
As it neared morning, the air seemed to grow thicker, and she gave his equally thick shoulder a little shove. "You're going to need to go home so you can sleep a little before duty takes you away for the day." She felt sad about that, but thankfully didn't let it show. "Maybe some other time, you can bring me some things to try and cook for you since I apparently didn't poison you last night." Which was a miracle, considering she had the skills to be able to do so, and that pitted her stomach, before she dashed the thought away and refocused on him. But why was it growing so hazy to actually focus and think properly?