He blinks at her. "Why do you have to talk like that?" he grumbles and then types out his post.
He shows it to her.
"There. It's done."
He can already feel the effects of alcohol, which is something quite similar to the drugs he's been given before, without the fear associated with them.
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She meets his gaze and downs her own shot.
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She has herself a third glass, but won't push him into drinking any more.
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"Are you going to stay while I do this?"
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What did he think the 'redemption' progress was going to be like? Hard labor and more electro-shocks?
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Not drinking together and threats of quality time.
He sighs. "I'm not speaking," he tells her firmly and starts off his text post.
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She pours one last shot for Henry and then corks the bottle, waiting until she sees the post for herself to actually leave.
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He shows it to her.
"There. It's done."
He can already feel the effects of alcohol, which is something quite similar to the drugs he's been given before, without the fear associated with them.
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"Make good choices," she says, picking up the bottle and shot glass and heading to the door.
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He doesn't want to get drunk, but there a knot of anxiety in his chest that seems to be a bit numbed by it.
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Let him makes a few bad choices as the young adult he is.
"See you tomorrow," she tells him.
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"Why tomorrow?"
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And also to deliver a hangover remedy.
Trixie slips out before he can argue with her about the visiting hours thing.