"You speak as if anything terrible has happened, my dear friend." There's some note of exasperation to his voice, all mixed into the hazy slurry of his words. How can Ignis be upset at a time like this? When Ravus feels amazing. Sure the world hasn't stopped that obnoxious tilt, but it's growing on him! Ignis still looks beautiful, even at an angle, after all.

Yet under the paradoxical feeling of both the floaty euphoria, and the heavy dragging of the inebriation, there's something else. A pang of guilt that gnaws at his heart, seeing that Ignis is still so worried. Why? Wait... he'd been upset before.

"Ignis," Ravus breathes his name with equal worry, and can't keep himself from all the small, anxious touches. Petting at his hands, his arms, like he can find just the right spot to ground the other man if he only keeps trying. "You've not brought about anything so worrisome. Why were you upset with me? Why are you upset with yourself? Please, it hurts my heart to see such trepidation in you. It does not suit how noble and bold you rightly are."