gunpoints: (027)
ᴇᴍᴍᴀ ᴄᴜʟʟᴇɴ ([personal profile] gunpoints) wrote in [community profile] cowbabes 2016-11-21 03:37 am (UTC)

[ emma watches him like a damn hawk as he throws back the bourbon, like she might miss the results of their newest experiment with his ghostly existence. part of her is worried this may turn into a reminder of what he is, of how he haunts this plane rather than truly being on it, and the last thing she wants to do is turn her gesture into another disappointment.

however, that look on his face, that momentary wince followed by pure shock? oh, it's enough to drag a proper smile out of her — warm, satisfied, and the first one that's crossed her lips in this last week.
]

I'd say it certainly is.

[ she pulls her glass close again, trying to tone down the plain delight in her expression, glancing instead at the alcohol in front of her to hide the curl of her mouth.

good, she thinks. that's real good.

she throws back the second helping of the bourbon, feels that hint of tingling in her fingers, and mentally notes that she ought to take the next one a bit slower, keep her pace because it wouldn't do to see her drunk while faraday sits beside her stone-cold sober.
]

Bit of a— [ her voice comes a little hoarse thanks to the burn of the liquor, and she just clears her throat before finishing. ] —a pleasant surprise.


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