He'd had enough by now that the room was starting to tilt and shift somewhat around him in his seat. The woman's touch - he did know her voice, he was sure, but his perception was bleary, wits sodden, so that it took more time than it should to recognize her - startled him. On pure reflex, Vax'ildan snatched for the uninvited wrist, to yank the woman's hand away from him and clutch the delicate bones tight in his grasp. His empty hand flexed for where his belt would normally be. His expression as he turned on her was equal parts alarmed, confused, and grim with resolve.

It was exactly why he'd left his daggers in his room.

"R-Regina," he breathed in the next beat, sighing and letting her loose. "Fuck, I..."