She’s staring at him.  No, not at him.  At his glass.  The drink inside.  Her eyes seem....judging?  Mad?  Disappointed?  He can’t tell, and that’s probably a sign he should stop.  Stop drinking, stop sitting in the lounge at 3 AM because he can’t sleep again, stop bringing SEES down, stop disappointing his frineds--stop.  Just....stop.

He thinks about it.  Maybe for too long.  Maybe he’s staring at her trying to say something, maybe he’s lost twenty minutes in a space he thought was two.  Either way, he finally breaks his own trance and takes another pull from his drink.

Whiskey burns.  But it’s a good kind of burn.  Harsher than his cigarette’s smoke.  And that’s why he keeps drinking.  He doesn’t stop.

Who is this kid?  Shinji can’t quite understand what he’s seeing.  He had taken Koromaru for a walks, and on his wayh through the park, he sees...this.  An old man, passed out, probably high or drunk or both, on a park bench.  Someone young enough to be his grandson is sitting beside him, shaking his head with a frown.  Shinji reaches into his jacket, and pulls out his pack of cigarettes.  Offers it to the kid.