"...Come on, drink."
In the end, Michael Quinn compromised.
He reached for a bottle of liquor.
At this moment, with a "bang," a bottle was slammed on the table, causing the bowls and utensils to tremble slightly. Three pairs of eyes looked over, only to see Laura Collins holding an opened beer bottle, placing it beside her hand.
Under six scrutinizing gazes, Laura nonchalantly said, "Count me in."
Drinking straight from the bottle.
Count her in.
Michael felt his stomach twisting, knotting up, uncomfortably.
"Cheers."
Nora Scott raised the only glass she had; the beer inside wasn't even filled to the brim.
Clinking against her glass were three beer bottles, clashing with a crisp and pleasant sound.
The four of them sat together, the number wasn't many, and the atmosphere didn't heat up, so after the first clinking, in the slightly chilly and stiff ambiance, they all downed their drinks at once.
