[ If she was in a mood to be well and truly honest with herself, she'd have reached the inward admittance long before standing outside of his door that she hadn't sought out his company for what might have seemed like the most obvious reason, the clearest excuse for being here now.

Even in the short walk she'd taken from her own quarters to this one would have given her extremely ample opportunity to turn around and retreat in the direction she'd first come — but now, here she was, with her steps having led her to this place, and she couldn't even think up an alternate justification for why apart from the simple and slightly terrifying notion of just wanting to.

The strong scent of the liquor is deadened somewhat once he caps the bottle and sets it off to one side, and she doesn't outwardly mention that she hadn't seated herself close to force him to concede space for her; instead, she just watches him quietly, leaning until her back is propped up by the side of the bedframe. ]

You don't need to apologize for that. Not to me. [ If anything, the fact that he'd been willing to show her this face before had prepared her; now, she perceives it as merely another part of him, which is how she can tell that he's having a particular time of it. ]

I take it ordinary liquor doesn't do the job sufficiently enough, hence the... what is that? It smells horrendous.