"Maybe I'm a boring bloke?" Oliver replied with a shrug, following suit and downing the rest of his drink. Merlin he needed the edges of reality to blur and he needed it now. So another pour of a drink and another swift downing.
Oliver pressed the glass crushingly between his fingers, watching with through the heat and the lurking effect of the alcohol. "Mm," He was hundred percent sure his face was guarded, absolutely, flawlessly so, and still, Charlie could sense whatever troubled him at the moment. A shot of guilt flooded Oliver's stomach when - and mentally cursing himself for doing so - he caught the gaze of one of his best mates. Terence still refused to speak to him, no sense in driving Charlie away with stubbornness.