He noted the hesitation in her eyes and gave a light chuckle. He put down his coffee, repositioning himself in his chair, and raising his eyebrows as he spoke, "I asked that," he said with resolution in his tone, "because when I was that age I couldn't hold my alcohol for shit." He chuckled. "It frightens me, that you have a stronger stomach than I." He turns his head and looks down smiling at her, in the most friendliest of manners.<br/><br/>He recomposed noticing her uncomfortableness. He scrunched up his forehead, lifting up his body along with his brown jacket, "Do you want me to drive you home?" He shook his head, "I don't want to make it seem like I'm keeping you here, but I offer my house to you as long as you need it." He swings his arm around to the entirety of the house. It was clean at first glimpse, like it once long ago was spotless, but an entity had left it, and it became just a house.. not a home. He looked like he had rushed to tidy up the house, so it wouldn't look so unpleasant.<br/><br/>The living room was very open, with tall glass windows filling the room with sunlight. The carpets were tan, perhaps once off-white. The couches were white with blue covers. Very asexual. There were throw pillows and matching lamp shades. A glass-topped coffee table adored with stacks of books, papers, and clutter. An.. organized clutter. It was hard to put a finger on.<br/><br/>He put his arm down to his side, smiling a kind-hearted smile as he noticed her scanning his household. He jingled his keys, regaining her attention, "What'll it be?"