"Exactly," Emrys agreed, somewhat gratified to have his opinion confirmed from an independent source, even if the subject was rather depressing. Maybe this had been part of why he'd asked Pettigrew here in the first place. Ostensibly it had been because Pettigrew was the only person who came to mind who might possibly have any experience admitting to a woman that he sometimes slept with men, but perhaps part of it had been this: Pettigrew embodied so many of his insecurities on the subject. That wasn't a very charitable thing to think, particularly about someone he'd spent considerable time trying to seduce. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that airing his personal problems in an opium den in the middle of the day was a supremely unflattering thing to do. Hopefully Pettigrew only thought him ridiculous and wasn't actively uncomfortable.

"You've got me, though. That's a bit of an escape," he pointed out, tone aiming for levity. "Or it would be, if you ever visited."

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