Enzan hadn't noticed how thirsty he truly was. But now, he couldn't seem to swallow right. His vision narrowed just to that small glass, just to the woman's perfect nails against it.

"None," Enzan repeats, because it's the only way he'll be able to make the right choice. He tries to blink, focus on the wheel before them. This place should have made him feel tense, but her words seemed to rake over his mind, keeping his breathing steady and slow.

"Certainly bold to be trying to sell to me before I've won anything," he tried to smile, summon that cocky demeanor he was always working with. "Just-- put me down on green. I've been waiting long enough."

Enzan rubs his eyes. Why did he say no? He did want it. He was thirsty, and tired. Just one sip would bring the strength back into his lethargic limbs, he was sure.

Enzan clicks his tongue between his teeth in irritation. He can't help but feel exposed like this, under those slitted eyes. More distressing than the confusion of being here, is the paranoia that she knows how he feels.

"Never been more at home," he lies, with a vicious grin.

Though he's not a gambler, he's used the chips enough to know how to look competent with them. He knows how to ruffle them, how to place his bets, and how to hold a steely facade.

"Are we waiting for other players? Or can I get my hand?" Enzan asks impatiently. The quicker he plays, the quicker he can move on from this.