The compliment prompted an almost sheepish smile. Like oh, you. Go on.

"A while," Eliot echoed, confirming, as he took a glance around the room. "A long... weird while."

He was mentally rifling through all the things he'd thought up to say if someone he knew dropped in. He'd had a lot of time to think about them, and the tone had been constantly been in flux depending on whether he was currently in some sort of active crisis. Now that Quentin was actually here, now that he'd surprised Eliot like this, the talking points were somewhat scattered. It was going to take him a second to gather them up.

"Three months," he specified, looking back at Quentin. "Just a bit over. What are you drinking? Let's get you another one."

His free arm looped again around Quentin's shoulders, but this time it was to lead him toward the bar.