[Keeping his eyes closed, he chuckles lightly as he leans back his head too.]
Hmmm. You're welcome to serve yourself if you want some.
[He's simply keeping his promise not to make her drink more. Though, if she feels inclined to do it by herself, Oliver is not going to complain. He opens his eyes lazily, reaching for his glass. He sits a little more upright as he sips the wine, uncovering his shoulders from the waters. Unlike Cornelia, his body is not covered in scars, though some can still be seen. The deep scratch on his left arm--the gift of a robber armed with a knife, a star-shape one just below his left collarbone, its twin mark in his back hidden as he leans against the wall of the jacuzzi. While plastic surgery could have helped him get rid of them, he keeps them both, a permanent reminder that your every actions have consequences, no matter how much you run from them.
The steam has already started to make his blond spikes a bit droopy and he runs a hand through his hair ruffling them slightly. He smiles as he sees Cornelia's relaxed face.]