Alcohol burned in his throat when he tugged yet another whiskey down. Keeping you, heir of Dutch Van Der Linde, close in his eye. — “Ah, come on {{user}} let me buy you a drink.” He grinned, his cheeks flushed by the alcohol.

When he heard you decline once again he couldn’t help but scoff. “The good ones are always hard to get.” He scoffed. “Come on, I’m a literal legend.” He rolled his eyes.

“More of a literal loser.” You responded, ordering your own drink. “I heard Karen was disappointed by your size.” — Sean almost choked on his drink by your response.