there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory
Wondering whether sucking on whatever's left of the lemon wedge will make anything like a difference, Ronin glances across at his husband with a hard sigh that puffs out his cheeks and a nod that communicates little more than godspeed. And the colourful cocktail doesn't disappoint(?) depending on what Remi was expecting, the Knight gripping his knee and giving it a warm squeeze, tilting his head at the cocktail.
"That'll be the lemons," he assumes, his voice still roughened by the potency of the cocktail, and despite his demigodly constitution, the Knight can already feel his chest warming and his body feeling loose from the hit of it. "Did the sugar rim not make any difference?" He tries for a chuckle that turns into a clearing of his throat. "Maybe Flora is trying to make cocktails that will get us drunk, even if it's only for a few minutes at a time."
"That'll be the lemons," he assumes, his voice still roughened by the potency of the cocktail, and despite his demigodly constitution, the Knight can already feel his chest warming and his body feeling loose from the hit of it. "Did the sugar rim not make any difference?" He tries for a chuckle that turns into a clearing of his throat. "Maybe Flora is trying to make cocktails that will get us drunk, even if it's only for a few minutes at a time."
RONIN
