[He gets out a belated 'thank you' before draining half the cup in one big gulp, the burn of mint is a curious mixture of icy and hot when it hits his belly, but he lifts his eyes and meets Natasha's.]
Some days, there is never going to be enough.
[Even if he drained the station dry of anything alcoholic, it wouldn't kill him - it might just make him long for death instead once it all burned away. Leaving him a wreck in the morning.]
Where are my manners. How are you, Natasha? In need of a nip?
no subject
Some days, there is never going to be enough.
[Even if he drained the station dry of anything alcoholic, it wouldn't kill him - it might just make him long for death instead once it all burned away. Leaving him a wreck in the morning.]
Where are my manners. How are you, Natasha? In need of a nip?