Alcohol with Akira
“You have seemed rather tense lately,” Griffin observed as he stood behind Akira, watching as she skimmed over numerous papers before her.
“Really? You don’t say,” she snapped, pushing her glasses farther up her nose. She didn’t even mind that people were seeing her with them on; there were much bigger issues afoot.
Sighing, she leaned back into the chair, massaging the bridge of her nose.
“Sorry, Griffin. There’s just so much work to be done, and I—” Griffin cut her off.
“You need a break, something to help you relax,” he insisted, his expression stoic but his words kind. “Is there anything that calms you down or a place you like to go to unwind?”
After a moment of thought, she nodded, spinning around on the chair to toss him a grin.
“I know something that fits both.”
★☽★☾★☽★☾
The bar reeked of stale whiskey, and the burly men who occupied the bar stools didn’t smell any better.
“This is where you go to relax?” he demanded incredulously under his breath, glancing pointedly at the drunken men trying to play a game of pool. Every time one would miss the cue ball, their companions would erupt in outrageous laughter. “How can this place possibly offer comfort? I have never seen anything like this.”
“Shut up and come with me,” Akira ordered, dismissing his concern. “Hey, Carl! Hook me up with a Bloody Mary, extra spicy.” She peered at Griffin, eying him up and down. “And a piña colada for Puff over here. Virgin.”
“Just because alcohol has never passed through my lips does not mean that it never shall,” Griffin countered, waving the bartender back over. “Make that piña colada not virgin, good sir.”
Blinking slowly, the pudgy man shook his head, muttering something about “idiot college kids” and “their indecisiveness.”
“Ooh, taking a risk there, Dragonboy?” Akira taunted, an eyebrow raised. “I’m impressed.” Griffin ignored her comment.
“Here are your drinks, lady,” Carl stated as he set the glasses onto the counter. “That’ll be twelve bucks.”
“I’ll pay when we head out.” He muttered something else indistinguishable as he strode away. “What are you waiting for? Drink up!”
Slowly, Griffin brought the drink to his lips, sipping at the milky liquid inside. At first, his head jerked away, repulsed by the burning sensation that trickled down his throat, but, after regaining his wits, her tried again.
Akira struggled not to laugh.
He imbibed a large gulp of the drink, licking his lips once he swallowed. Instantly, his eyes bulged.
“This... is amazing,” he admired, peering at the drink as if it were enchanted. “It is the sweet, heavenly nectar of the Gods!”
After gulping the remainder of the liquid, he thrust the glass in the air.
“It is worthy to be called the liquid ambrosia and be placed upon a pedestal made of gold to sit upon the peak of Mount Olympus!”
Slamming the glass down onto the counter, he caught Akira’s wide-eyed gaze but chose to ignore it.
“Sir! Fetch me your strongest beverage!” he instructed, a grin twitching at the corners of his lips.
“Bacardi coming right up.”
After setting her own glass down, Akira gently laid a hand on his forearm.
“Actually, Griffin, I think it’d be best if you lay off the drinks,” she insisted, raising her eyebrows. “Only experienced drinkers can handle as much alcohol as Carl puts in his—”
“More!” Griffin hissed, chuckling. Throwing her hands up in surrender, Akira mirrored his laugh.
“Okay, but you asked for it,” she warned, pulling out a wad of cash. “Carl, you might as well keep ‘em coming. I think we’ll be here for quite a while.”
And, for once, their smiles and carefree attitude lasted all night long, but they could have done without the splitting migraines that came with the morning.
