her head cocks to the side at his order, he didn’t strike her as a whiskey sort of guy. “whiskey? yikes, are you middle aged?” a teasing grin painted on rosy dusted cheeks, manicured hands wrapping around her glass. the song … +
eyebrows pressed so close together they nearly touch, blinking thick lashes. it’s almost like she has to think about the question for a moment, before her face softens and her lips spread into a wide, dopey smile. … +
“yeah, but you’re tilting all over the place,” they chuckle faintly and extend an arm out, on the chance she might wobble from her heels into a faceplant. “what’s your name?”