Worf was in no mood to talk to anyone, even this man who seemed to be wanting to invite him out to a drink. The Klingon clenched his fists and growled deep and low, yet he didn't yell at the man anymore. What is it with humans and their need to cheer people up? Worf needed solitary time alone to mourn.

"You seek to invite me to--to drink with you?"

He growled the words out not wanting to destroy his apartment anymore but it was hard. The grief was gnawing at him and it hurt. So much. His hair was a mess around his face as he decided to take the man up on his offer.

"Fine. You believe this will help then I accept."

What was there to lose?