[His fingers stray to his own neck, just under his ear, where there's a fairly new tattoo he got for just that purpose.]

It should help for at least a little while.

[He slips out of his boots and follows Cesar further into his apartment; it feels strange. It's been a long time since he was here, and his heart rate's increasing as though worried he'll get caught existing in a space he shouldn't have access to.

He sets the lasagna on the stove, where the iced-over part clunks loudly, and he winces.]

Sorry if this isn't... can I have a drink? Something strong, if that's OK.