Wordlessly, Jo held her hand out for the bottle. What was the use in resisting something she so clearly wanted? One drink didn't have to lead to five (it would) and they didn't have to take their frustrations out on one another (they would). One drink. Jo could handle one drink. And then...and then she would leave his flat and the ball would be in his court.

The whiskey was delicious. Jo held the bottle back to see its flavor (vanilla, she should've guessed) and brand before passing it back to him. It was expensive, and something she wouldn't be able to afford on her own. "How long are you here for?" She asked instead of dwelling on her own financial status.