"Just drunk," he said, nodding. The round of truth or dare that had turned into something decidedly more - something Adam had yet to resolve, or even bring up, a subject he knew could not sit idle forever - had no bearing here. It did, however, set him to idly tonguing his labret, considering what else did need to be shared. "Doesn't sound like much, but after twenty-nine years of sobriety, it was a bit of a shock." His brow furrowed as he thought on her choice of phrasing. Suddenly he found himself wondering what floor had drawn her into its strange depths, and what had happened to cause her such distress.
Caught up in such thoughts, Adam realized too late she was crying. His lips parted, wordless, embarrassed of his own obliviousness. "I'm sorry," he said, belated. He reached out, his fingertips skimming her hand. "Are you alright? What happened?"