"Fuck no I'm not afraid." His nose wrinkled boyishly at the idea. He looked down to her finger, pale and thin as bone, her gesture seeming somehow almost accusatory. A smirk twisted the corner of his lips. "I see weirder than you an hour into my average shift. But just cos you don't scare me doesn't mean I'd trust you to look after a Betta fish if I had one."
He was grateful for the change in topic, though he recognized the likelihood of her wandering back to whatever caught her inebriated mind at any given time. For now he was content to enjoy the return to the mundane, for every second that he didn't feel that strange dissociative flicker in his thoughts. He shifted to better face her, giving her a long and careful look.
For the moment she seemed content to remain in her chair, though her shifting posture kept him on his guard. He narrowed his eyes at her question, wondering just how much to tell her. His room number was out there for the observant to find; he had so recently responded to Honey Skye's forum post, so not too much digging would even be required. Frustrated at his own oversight, he shrugged, shaking his head. "I live upstairs," he said, "and we aren't going there. I'm not stupid enough to half-drag a drunk kid up to my place, no matter how much of a good Samaritan I'm trying to be."