He took the glass, drinking about half its contents. There was a heat and a background caramel flavor that made rum a sort of... he didn't know, adult candy or something. No, not candy. But at least enjoyable.
Paternal role models were something James understood intimately. His own father was a quieter man than James was ever able to be, but there was always something to the way his mum looked at the two of them, and the way his father looked too indulgently at him and Sirius, that told him that was just a matter of time. James could see his future in his father. So many of his classmates had been bogged down with this... doubt, this uncertainty that was so foreign to James, where they didn't know if their fathers were proud of them, didn't know how to earn their fathers' respect. James had always known. And all he'd ever really wanted to be was as good as his dad.
Her question drew up an easy smile and pulled something of a chuckle out of his chest. He knew what she meant, but his brain somehow turned it into a question of whether or not he had a typical type of girl. Generally, he reckoned not, though he didn't have the same penchant for blonds other men seemed to profess. That differentiation didn't quite prohibit him from wondering what happened to girls he'd dated over the years, though as soon as he began he abruptly tried to stop.
"Well, you're still alive, so you've got that going for you," the humour in it kind of faltering as it came out of his mouth. He quickly finished the rest of his drink, setting the empty glass down on the counter. His eyes closed for just a bit longer than a blink ought to have lasted. "Me too," he said, opening his eyes and forcing a shift backward; a tone of backpedaling regret given in lieu of an actual apology. "I always wanted to be my dad. There wasn't anybody in the world better than my dad... Though I kind of think he would have been over the moon if I been able to sign on with a quidditch league."
In truth, he wasn't exactly paying much attention to what he was going on about, he was just trying to avoid thinking. Grasp extending, he drew the bottle of rum over to himself to pour a second drink.