"Mitchell," he said as he started to pour the vodka over the ice cubes. "Almost three years. I've been one of the first people to arrive here." The place had certainly changed. He couldn't say whether it was better or worse now. A lot of shit had happened at the start. The plane crash, the prison. Ira. Fuck. Things went wrong when Annie wasn't around. He remembered the overwhelming desperation, the hunger and then the relief when life had started to flow through his veins.
His eyes shortly snapped to her neck before he averted them again. "Here, enjoy," he said, pushing the drink towards her.