It was a long day really, and it showed in his eyes, and the way he sighed. Elbows rested against the bar's counter-top as he leaned against it. He slouched some, the day defeated him, and Charles could give a damn about posture at the moment.
"Aye." Charles nodded his head in approval when Jackson ordered his drink with a pair of shots. Charles was already sliding his card toward the bartender when he come back to place their drinks on the counter with soft clacks.
"Where would you want me to fucking start," He let out a groan, and was already lifting the shot into the air before Jackson said anything else. The shot was raised, tipping it a little toward Jackson, but not enough to spill any of it, and quickly tossed back the shot in one swallow. The whiskey burnt, but the kind of burn he liked. It traveled down his throat, and the warmth settled in the pit of his stomach. Fingers curled around his glass of beer, carefully pulling it off the counter to take a generous sip.
"I swear to Christ today just needs to be obliterated."