Mnnn. [It's a thoughtful sound as Sally's gaze skates over the label. She's never really developed a taste for whiskey, but she figures it's probably like anything else- you find the one that does something for you and branch out from there. The smell reaches her as soon as she gets the cap off, but more importantly it frees her opposite hand up enough that she can track down a glass. At least this highball glass is holding what it's meant for. And he's even spared her the necessity of looking for ice.
She pours two fingers worth and the dim overhead light throws honey colored patterns across the counter between them. But Sally's gaze doesn't really lift until the heavy bottomed glass is slid over the bar, just beside the guy's right hand. It's a deliberate gesture, a sound he can follow.]
Not the kind of guy to compromise, huh?
[The cap goes back on, one twist, then another- a stark contrast to the wine she's committed to finishing. Her hip comes to rest against the ledge of the bar as she reaches for her own glass, four fingers and thumb spread out over the mouth.]
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She pours two fingers worth and the dim overhead light throws honey colored patterns across the counter between them. But Sally's gaze doesn't really lift until the heavy bottomed glass is slid over the bar, just beside the guy's right hand. It's a deliberate gesture, a sound he can follow.]
Not the kind of guy to compromise, huh?
[The cap goes back on, one twist, then another- a stark contrast to the wine she's committed to finishing. Her hip comes to rest against the ledge of the bar as she reaches for her own glass, four fingers and thumb spread out over the mouth.]