[ He swears creatively before: ] I told you not to come over.

[ He gives up the bottle easily, most likely because he currently sees two Dorians and isn't particularly sure which one he should be focusing on. Ethan gives him a strained smile, accepting the water only to set it down defiantly on the table beside him before giving the trash can a frown. ]

I don't need that.

[ Will he need it later? Definitely. After running a clumsy hand through his hair, he straightens up and tries to get back to his feet. Oh, it definitely takes some effort but while he's unaccustomed to being this drunk, he's no stranger when it comes to dealing with the end result of a bender. He might be standing here in his apartment with Dorian, but his mind is still back on the second floor, going toe to toe with his deceased companion. His eyes dart left and right as he tries to make his jumbled thoughts into a coherent statement. ]

It was Sembene's face but not his actions, he should have just listened to me. No, maybe I should have listened to him. This.. wouldn't have happened. She doesn't even know he's dead. What the hell am I going to do? [ He wants to tell her things, to be more forthcoming than he had been in the past, but this is her second chance. Dracula and Lucifer have no place here, not right now. The nagging doubt eating away at him is this: if they show up, especially the former, and he didn't tell her -- she would be flying blind. ]

I have to tell her, Dorian. About what's to come, about what's hunting her. About Sembene. About what I am.