He didn't do any of it out of any genuine care. There was nothing there besides seeing Marc as a useful killing machine -- and Marc deserved more than that. It breaks his heart that he doesn't see that, that he doesn't value himself more than that nasty old bird's insults. And it terrifies Steven to think he'd agree to be with Khonshu again, that he'd serve him again regardless of what Steven says.

But it won't help, bringing any of it up right now. He brings up the drink for a long pull and winces a bit as the burn settles down his throat and all the way to his belly.

"Marc, you can take this one." It's supposed to be his drink anyway, yeah? And maybe Steven would just like to-- not be here. Just for a moment. He can watch Marc enjoy his drink and stay nice and cozy up in their head while he sorts himself out, gets ready for their novel later.

... Hopefully Marc doesn't take it as permission to go through two bottles of the stuff and get them both too drunk to function.