We watch each other minutely for the slightest sign. He knows I'm doing just that, surely? He's watching me watching him for signs: mocking me! Playing this sick game for his amusement.
As I swill the dark liquid around the bulb of the large snifter, as I was taught to do, I buy myself invaluable seconds to think. He smiles at me and mirrors my action with his own, untainted, drink. I return the smile. He ups the ante and serves back a bigger smile. I volley it with what can only be described as a grin. An infinitesimal beat and he smashes the grin back with an unnerving peal of laughter, bordering on the manic. I do the same. My paranoia peaks and a wave of nausea swells from the pit of my being, as we stand there, face to face, in hysterics.
"Cheers", he practically screams.
"Cheers to you", I venture boldly.
We both tilt our drinks in the direction of the other and fluidly follow the motion through as if to drink...
RATINGS BREAKDOWN
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