Tired.

[Obviously.]

Worried 'bout you. [Somewhat less so, but still fairly obvious. He continues, the syllables slowly composing themselves as he wakes up, just a little more.] You only text weird crap at weird hours when you're drunk or nervous. I know we don't have anything anymore, 'cause... [he yawns, and pauses, taking in the feel of Asher's touch.] That was when you wanted me to laugh at whatever you were messaging Keats.

[Jin blinks again, owlishly.]

Talk to me.