[Tempting as it is to reach out and touch that porcelain face, John refrains and keeps his hand as still as he can before it's placed back down. He might be joking about a spa date but he won't overstay his welcome, even if he might get overly friendly while he savours the opportunity to linger. He has a bad habit of coming and going, often without a word.]

'Pent-up'? [John wrinkles his nose. Is he? A bit, maybe. Feeling like he's constantly fighting a losing battle, with no easy way out and no feasible end in sight, he feels frustrated, burdened, tired.]

Do you think so? We came seeking each other out, didn't we? [He smiles in a way that reaches the corners of his eyes before taking a deep breath, lying down properly and stretching out on the pile of bedding. He knows, that's probably not what Azuma meant either.]

I drink a lot. Alone. [A quiet confession. Not because he's ashamed. More because it's a piece of himself he's giving away to a stranger, over a casual encounter, and it's not something he does nearly often enough. He also doesn't want to turn this conversation too far down a dark road, even as he rubs Azuma's abdomen pensively.] Most things get worked out when you reach the bottom of a bottle.