Uncurling himself from the chair, Nicky strolled over the couch, moving far too gracefully for someone who had that much alcohol in them. Apparently, he was of the 'loose limbs and liquid muscles' types of drunks. Setting his bottle down on the coffee table, he moved over to Booker's chair and bent to grab the other man's hands.

"Come. Sit with me. You are too far away to touch and I am drunk enough to let myself be upset by that. Come." He tugged until he got what he want, guiding Booker the few feet over the couch so that Nicky could sprawl out and lay his head on Booker's thigh.

"You are too hard on yourself, my friend. You are immortal, you are not God. None of us are. All we can do is live our lives and find the love and the purpose in them. You will rejoin your family one day and they will love you, but in the meanwhile you are loved just as much right here. And you know what? You're allowed to be."