The refusal to help wasn’t personal - usually he was the one helping other people, but in this circumstance he haut wanted to wallow in peace. The opportunity to mourn, to drink himself into oblivion, to fall out of the chair if he wanted to. But the insistence wasn’t going to let up. It was then Logan had a decision to make. Fight this shrimp of a man and regret it later, because whether or not he could beat Ehren in a physical fight wasn’t the question it was the fact that he’d have hurting someone innocent to carry on his shoulders too. He didn’t think he could take on any more negative weight.
“What do you know?” He inquired wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose. Eyes would squint shut and the hand over the wad of cash balled into a fiat with defeat. He shoved the cash minus a few stray coins into the pocket from whence it came to offer a silent white flag on the subject. Any more, with this level of intoixation, and there was bound to be blood from someone. “Fine.”
Not even acknowledging the bartender, as he could make an educated albeit drunken guess as to the expression on her face right now as per the interruption on whatnot started as a peaceful evening, Logan waited for Ehren to make the first move. His eyes opened and he sat there for another minute before attempting to stand up.
Hands would grip the lip of the bar as he sagged out of the tall seat, one foot and then the other a jumbled mess of boots before he made it upright and unburdened.