“Listen. Gorgeous,” the tipsy mercenary somewhat slurred, arms crossed as he stood in front of the art. Zaeed was certainly trying, that was sure. It had to count for something. “I’ve had a few drinks. You’ve had a few drinks....”

He trailed off slightly, pausing. Had they? He really couldn’t remember. He shook that, pursing his lips. “How’s about you ‘n me go snuggle by that fire?”

He cracked a charming little grin, though he was sure it wasn’t quite as charming as he hoped due to his scar. Still, he was trying. This was his one chance to actually make a move. Plus -- well, he had just downed half a bottle of whiskey. Not like anyone would mind it missing, this place was stocked to the brim.