[ Yennefer had been a surprise, and under better circumstances Drift would have said a pleasant one at that. Her name had came up in the miserable haze of his drunken stupor more than once as someone to reach out to. They had bonded quickly, but Drift didn't want to burden her with his problems so new into their friendship. Yennefer was blunt, sure, but honest and accepting of what he truly was - she was also likely dealing with shit of her own if she wound up here. She didn't need to see him in such a state. He still wasn't going to pretend the relief he felt at her being here didn't exist, either. ]

Good thing my social calendar is so clear, otherwise public appearances would've been embarrassing.

[ The mild slur to his cadence takes the sarcastic bite from his words. Drift takes one last swig before screwing the cap on the bottle and shoving it aside on the nightstand. Out of sight, out of mind.

He adjusted himself so that Yennefer had more of the bed to lean against. He may only be three meters now, but it was still a tight fit. ]

I'd offer a drink, but you'd be safer swigging paint than that.[ Drift rubs the the ridge around his right eye and sighs, already feeling the beginning of a hangover. ] Sorry, I can't use my human guise right now. Difficult to concentrate when I'm... [ He winces ] like this.