[ emma takes her own glass, looking down at the drink thoughtfully. she's not hesitating out of distaste (though she'd be lying if she said she thought the alcohol was particularly delicious), but rather in a moment of consideration for the last time they'd shared a drink.
he'd still been pure flesh and blood, living and breathing beside her in that saloon, avoiding the reality of the impending fight. emma had been plenty prepared to face death that day, but— instead, it had been faraday who'd taken that leap into the abyss.
almost comical, really, to have him with her again after that brutal, scarlet day, when she'd knelt with him in the grass as he'd faded away before her eyes. ]
I imagine you won't find yourself much affected, either way.
[ because, really, he's dead. if by some strange miracle he can taste the bourbon, she still doubts he'll be able to manage some kind of drunkenness from it.
without hesitating any longer, emma swallows her own small helping of the drink, biting back the urge to wince as it burns its way down her throat. she maintains her composure, just exhaling slowly with the taste of spirits on her breath, setting her glass down again and nudging it towards the bottle. ]
no subject
[ emma takes her own glass, looking down at the drink thoughtfully. she's not hesitating out of distaste (though she'd be lying if she said she thought the alcohol was particularly delicious), but rather in a moment of consideration for the last time they'd shared a drink.
he'd still been pure flesh and blood, living and breathing beside her in that saloon, avoiding the reality of the impending fight. emma had been plenty prepared to face death that day, but— instead, it had been faraday who'd taken that leap into the abyss.
almost comical, really, to have him with her again after that brutal, scarlet day, when she'd knelt with him in the grass as he'd faded away before her eyes. ]
I imagine you won't find yourself much affected, either way.
[ because, really, he's dead. if by some strange miracle he can taste the bourbon, she still doubts he'll be able to manage some kind of drunkenness from it.
without hesitating any longer, emma swallows her own small helping of the drink, biting back the urge to wince as it burns its way down her throat. she maintains her composure, just exhaling slowly with the taste of spirits on her breath, setting her glass down again and nudging it towards the bottle. ]