He splashes some cold water on his face, hoping to reduce the 'close to tears' look on his face. Fuck, he hopes he's doing the right thing. He wants it to be the right thing. But is it because of stubbornness or love? He dries himself off and takes a deep breath before stepping out.

"I'm not drunk." He can't help but scowl at the suggestion. Okay sure, he had a couple, but he's not a damn featherweight. "Besides, I'll still have to drive back. So what's the point?"