"No, not a stretch at all," he insisted. "Have you made notes in the margins?" he teased lightly. "No, you have a point. It's a very different skill, that ability to focus in so tightly. I have a tendency to go on and on, and that sort of floral language makes me like a pretentious ass. If you're talking about the sky, just fucking say that," he insisted, with a smile.
He laughed at her name calling, and gave her an insistent nod. "Yeah, I am, and I won't stop easily!" he told her. He considered it for a moment, and then accepted her handshake. "Deal. Even if I'll probably be too drunk by this point to ask a sensible question, and you'll be too drunk to answer it," he told her. "And here I thought you were secretly a Disney Princess," he teased her.
His expression flickered slightly at her calling him Ernest, even if he found himself incapable of not smiling around him. "Okay-" he rolled his sleeves up, like he was really getting down to business now. He lifted up the tequila shot glass, giving her an almost daring look.