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That's the drink talking, [ he says, measured and patient; it falters, however, when she continues to press him.

His mouth thins, discomfort warring with bitterness; the latter triumphing briefly, ] You made it clear that you wanted anything but that, before.

[ Much as he might crave the contact, crave the acceptance, the rejection still stings. Surely she cannot think he can simply forget?

Still, he will not draw back from her a second time ㅡ not yet, not unless there is no other way ㅡ and instead asks: ] Unless you've reconsidered?