The sofa felt good to rest on, half laying on it, legs hanging off and slumping over one arm, eyes closed against the world. "It's fine. Fine," he murmured thickly at Pierce's question, managing to look up at him, vision fuzzy, forcing him to blink to try and make the older man out. "Better than the street." A pause, and he tried to haul himself up to sit up straight.
"Better than... than I deserve." Simon wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, reclining back, willing the world to stop tipping onto it's side. "Water'd be great. Gin would be better, hmm?"