The only reason the tone makes it through still is because it's so uncommon. Hardly anyone talks to him like that. Was there not a kitchen, and pantry in a hotel? Maybe he was thinking more of service houses. It all blended together at this point, and he was staring at the carpet as they walked, and the carpeting would be suitable for either.

"Yes. I'll need more--" he lifts his hand. Ah right. The bottle vanished into thin air. He can't recall the name in particular.

Then he lurches again, bracing that hand against the door to his room as... well, there he goes, but at least he missed Ronan and his own boots. Not that there's really much to throw up beyond a bit of bile and that last mouthful of alcohol.

In other words, he really doesn't need more, he just needs to go to bed, honestly.