Swallowing, your cheeks burned. A rush of warmth going down your throat, tongue running over a slightly chapped bottom lip; nursing on whiskey. A toast to the new year.

An atypical night of leisure. Joyful laughter and music drowned out any sense of duty. A certain respite to your muscles, shoulders lowering alongside your guard.

“..I’d be mindful of how much you drink.” Sova’s voice advised, however his gaze lingered on his fellow agents. A watchful gaze— and perhaps the only one entirely sober tonight.

“You’ll end up inebriated.” He added, feigning concern. His virtuousness didn’t fit in such a sinful establishment.

A low chuckle tickled the back of your throat, a sound comparable to a purr, your head tilting languidly in his direction. “You’ll find that i’m more enjoyable when im drunk.”

The Russian’s lips pursed, an unamused expression splaying his face. Features accentuated by the low, amberish lights; his head shook.

Looking entirely out of place, uncomfortable even. Here tonight out of begrudging reverence, an obligation to make sure everyone returned to base safely.

“I doubt that.” Sova muttered with curt consideration, brows bunching in a furrow.