Accepting the glass and almost feeling the condensation blush against it from the warmth of her fingers, Dahlia examines the liquid within, followed by the scars that strike across Jata's hand - and the one that cuts through his cheek. "I consider myself warned," she murmurs, lifting the whiskey to her lips and taking a considerably indulgent sip from the glass.
There is sweetness, sort of, and a woodiness too, only for fire to ignite in her throat almost instantly afterwards. Inhaling only makes it worse, though Dahlia absolutely savours the pleasure-pain of it, her cheeks flushing and mouth watering from the bite of the liquor. "Gods," she hisses, pressing the glass back into his hands with a soft, wheezing laugh. "You made it look so easy. It's stronger than anything we get where I'm from."
There is sweetness, sort of, and a woodiness too, only for fire to ignite in her throat almost instantly afterwards. Inhaling only makes it worse, though Dahlia absolutely savours the pleasure-pain of it, her cheeks flushing and mouth watering from the bite of the liquor. "Gods," she hisses, pressing the glass back into his hands with a soft, wheezing laugh. "You made it look so easy. It's stronger than anything we get where I'm from."
let me put my lips to something
let me wrap my teeth around the world
let me wrap my teeth around the world
