Anna handles the glass of gin (there's not much in it; vampirism doesn't change metabolism and she is still a slip of a thing) much like a shot, actually, tipping it back with a snap of her wrist and swallowing expressionlessly, suggesting - correctly - that no one on earth would drink this for the taste. Gin is really more of a mascara thinner, but it accomplishes her purposes regardless, swimming warm down her throat and washing over the rough stalactite edges of her cravings, like teeth in their own right. "Uh-uh," she shakes her head in cruel denial, setting the bottle on the counter and this time actually crossing her arms over her chest. "Blood thinner, remember?"
He doesn't care, she realizes, an understanding that resonates in her with something not like sympathy, but its echo from the mouth of a cave. She knew something like that once, but a very long time ago. Whatever that reaction is swirls alongside the one markedly much more teenaged girl--interesting. She likes that, and there's nothing particularly complex to pry open in the sentiment. Her own curiosity too is just what it is, and unlike Seth she doesn't take the trouble to machinate carefully around the edges of whatever whys may be hovering in the room--
"So what's with this?" she inquires ...bluntly, waggling all five of her usable fingers around as an indicator.