"Of course it would," she says, annoyed at his stupid good-point-making. "But I'm not - I won't let you get hurt again. I only just got you back, I can't lose you, okay, I can't."

Fuck. Okay. She's sounding not like herself. Not put together. Not chill.

She hasn't been that for a month. She's been alone, whittled down to nothing. How can she expect herself to be different now, just because she has her friend back? Her friend who is prone to getting himself almost killed.

"I'm too drunk for this." She presses both hands to her face. "Let's get out of here. I'll take you to my place. You can stay there for now. More room than I know what to do with." And she can make coffee and pretend this isn't happening. Her usual post-tavern routine. Plus one.