Sirius gave a somewhat forced and crooked smile when she commented on his bad habit, the pile of empty bottles a sore sight scattered before him on his table. "Just means you haven't been drinking the right kind." It was a weak defense, but then again, it wasn't like he could really try to defend borderline alcoholism. It sounded like they both had their own coping mechanisms, and if he had the choice, he would have loved to be able to go out there and kill evil things day in and day out to work out the frustration that was pent inside of him. Bluntly put, it wouldn't have been enough. He drank to punish himself, because really, there had to have been a way somewhere down the line that he could have avoided this, all of this, from happening. He just wasn't sure where yet.
"I didn't even know that this is what I did. When I was upset, I mean." He nodded to the only full bottle in the bunch, the one she had taken away, with a solemn face that expressed a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. "Usually I would just talk it out with my mates, you know. James and Remus. ...And Peter." The last part was said almost venomously, but he continued with the obvious intent of disregarding the thought as quickly as possible. "But Remus is gone. ...James is dead. Peter is... no longer an option. Lily is dead. I guess I just miss home. How things used to be. ... Dunno why I thought this shit could make it better but, there it is." He sighed, collapsing back into the couch with a look of discontent. When he said it aloud it just made him sound more like an alcoholic. Which, apparently, he might have been, but Sirius never was one for silly things like labels.
"Just looks like coping isn't one of my strong suits. I should probably work on that."