[It's late. Not late enough that he's trying to sleep, but late enough that the sound of someone throwing something around pushes him over the edge. He's had an exhausting, stress-filled day. Maya's alarming return bothered him even now, and he was resisting the impulse to check in on her. The best thing she could do now was hopefully sleep it off, and fully recover come morning.]
Could you not? There are people trying to sleep here, you know, and--
--you're drunk. [He's practically oozing disgust at this point. The man doesn't look like he's bathed, either, and he can feel himself rankling.]