As she mused Irvine took the time to reach up and flip his ponytail, both out of habit and to give them a moment. The pieces fit thus far, from the supposed cause of sleepless nights and Quistis' own lack of rest (which, coupled with her need for distraction in the form of work, was probably doing a number on her). He figured if he was wrong, she would correct him and he'd continue from there.

Hand dropping back to his side, Irvine again focused his gaze on the woman before him.

"Let me guess. Bad dreams?" It wasn't so much a guess as a question directed at Quistis. "That's what I hear."