"Well..."

He looked at you, expectantly. Fuck. You really weren't gonna get out of this one, were you? Can't awkward your way out of it this time, do or die, he's expecting you to say something. His slight grin, a grin that just screamed 'got you' forced you to speak, even though you had literally nothing to hit him back with. So, you defaulted. Defaulted to a default that was so default that it was actually almost clever because of how lame it is. Almost. Could even be construed as a joke.

"Well..." You reiterate. "At least I'm not a fox."

His stare bores into your eyes as he sits still, trying to interpret how lame that response really was. He smiles, then placed his hand over his heart with a mock hurtful expression. Eyebrows quirked, a small, half giggle escape his mouth before he responds.

"Oh, that was a good one right there. Think of that one yourself? I'll tell ya, I'm gonna have to write that one down when I get home."

You wave our hand dismissively. "Ah whatever dude, I never claimed to be the more clever of us two, now did I?" Save face, if you can't win, at least make it look like you don't care that you lost.

He gave you one last look of satisfaction at the exchange before turning back to the bar.

"Well, at least you admit it." He says as he turned away from you, gesturing to Crookshank to come this way. You don't bother try rebutting. Ya got decimated the moment you sat down, nothing you could do about it now.

However, now that the situation had been thoroughly damage controlled, you too turned to the bar. Resting your elbow on the counter, resting your hands on either opposite elbow. You were sort of zoning out as Nick ordered you two the first drinks for that night while you just stared at the many bottles on the shelves behind the bar. You didn't have to bother with what you wanted, it's been an unspoken rule for many eons that whoever invited the other out, the first round is on them. And, cmon, Nick would know what you two's favorites opening shot always was.

The burning sensation left your tongue quickly enough to not bother you, but it chasing down your throat and settling into your stomach is what always get you with the first one. The 'cinnamon' flavor almost entirely overpowered by the alcohol itself. The Fireball whiskey felt like a, uh, fireball down your gullet and into your belly. And, after an almost simultaneous wince and a shudder from the both of you, you smacked the tiny shot glasses onto the counter with enthusiasm. The comforting sensation of the warmth spreading into your arms and legs, permeating the rest of your body was far more pleasant than the scorch in your throat, and was well worth it. Neither of you particularly liked Fireball, as it was a bit offensive, even for your tastes, but it was always best to hit something strong first. Take the worst hit first, and the rest will seem better in comparison. No warmups for you two, never was.

The barman refilled both glasses, all three of you noting that the deeply yellow bottle with the red label was almost empty. You wiped the speck of booze from your lip, and Nick shivered again, slightly. You considered making a jab at him for not being able to handle it, but it HAS been a while, to be fair. You didn't take it much better.

He smirked at you, and raised the glass to an inch away from his lips. As he spoke, you could see his breath fogging up the outside of the glass.

"Alright, this one's gonna go down for me no problem."

You paused briefly, before both of you instinctually knock back the glasses in unison, putting the alcohol into the back of your throat and swallowing it quickly as possibly as to avoid it hitting your tastebuds like a horse bucking you in the jaw. With a second routine slam to the counter, you stare at the wood for a brief second to not let Nick see your grimace, before looking back up to him and saying

"Hey.. Isn't that the same thing you said about that girl you were dating a few months ago?"

He gets a quick look of realization before you both laugh lightly. Crookshank rolls his eyes and pours the last of the dreaded amber liquid into the two glasses. He takes the bottle into the back to do whatever bartenders do with empty bottles, presumably throw them in the trash, but moreso he used it as an excuse to get some peace and quiet for a few seconds. Most bartenders were talkative, that's the main part of their job, but Crookshank literally was too grizzled and old to even pretend to give a shit.

Nick takes his glass in his hand, but you aren't quite ready for the third one so soon, you'll give it another second. He notices that you don't grab yours and begins to swish his around, staring at the liquid swirling inside. He spoke.

"I dunno, did I?"

What you asked was rhetorical, but apparently it got him thinking anyway. You decided to go along with it. Usually the feels don't start quite so soon, but might as well probe about it a bit. Last time you two met he casually mentioned that there was a girl who might've been interested in him, that's about all you could remember. You piped up.

"Yeah, weren't you dating some chick a little back?"

He looked up at you, not saddened or anything, just kind of... I dunno, a slight melancholy.

"Dude.." He paused. "I mean, like, yeah, but..." Another pause. You briefly wondered if you might've accidentally struck the wrong chord.

"We broke up like two months ago. I mean, it was pretty meh, her and I obviously weren't working out, so..." He finally trailed off.

You saw what was wrong. He didn't really seem to care so much about the girl. Truth be told, he never seemed to care much about dating or being romantic with people. Not to imply that he's awkward or anything, he's certainly not a virgin, he made sure you knew all about that. Hey, you two were 15, of course he'd be bragging about it to his best friend for weeks after it happened. He just, didn't seem to date a whole lot. Even though he obviously could, considering how charming he really was.

It wasn't talking about some girl that made him suddenly get quiet. It was the fact that you didn't know about it. It was a part of growing up, you two just don't have the time to talk or hang out like you used to. You both knew it happened, of course not happened to everyone. Still though, it's never fun to be reminded of something like that. You two used to talk every single day, keep each other updated about every single little thing. It just wasn't possible anymore.