When Allison took Vincent's sleeve his barriers fell down. She seemed... he wanted to say 'pathetic', but it wasn't that at all. It was entirely different, and he couldn't pin it down. Did she actually want to stay here? "I did say you'd be able to stay in my quarters, even if I meant it as more of a threat than anything. And you bring up a good point..." He sighed, pulling his arm away from her and freeing his sleeve. He brought his hand to his face, rubbing his forehead lightly. This was stupid, he knew it was a mistake. She didn't choose to be on this ship. If she was in his cabin, all she'd have to do was wait for him to fall asleep and then kill him. That was totally against his character; he hadn't lived this long in charge of such a bloodthirsty crew by being stupid. Having her stay with him, that was stupid.
And yet, he was going to let her. The realization swept over him like a wave. He actually trusted her not to try anything, and that itself was stupid in this circumstance. But she could stay.
"Fine..." He said, softly. "Make yourself at home. The washroom is through there," he said, pointing towards a curtain that separated the room from the living quarters. No real door to the washroom, or the bedroom, or really anywhere but to the cabin itself... open archways, and curtains. That was all, and it was how he preferred it. After all, it's not like he often had company. "And if you need to change, there should be something in the wardrobe over there."
"I'll go collect your things..." He raised his hand slowly, and put it under her chin like he had before. But this was different... gentle, even. He prayed she'd let him this time. "I'm putting a lot of trust in you right now, don't make me regret it." With that he left for her cell, making sure the door was locked behind him. She wouldn't be leaving his quarters while he was away.