"Ooh! Actually! Fun fact: Six-six-six ain't the number of the beast. Well, from what I heard. It's six-one-six. Still, knowing Ty, he'll throw a massive party over the whole thing. Like, ba-BAM! Stereotypical ~demons~ runnin' around, pentagrams everywhere, candles, skulls, the lot." He giggled, raising his glass in a toast before downing the rest of it. "Which reminds me. . . you said you couldn't get drunk? So, like, what are you? Or who, I guess. Is it bad to say 'what' when referring to someone's species? God, I'm bad at all this supernatural world shit."
Another compliment? Either he was doing something really right or Damien was pushing the blushy button on purpose. But hey, it worked, and there's an even brighter blush on his cheeks now. "It's, uh! Just a recipe, I have better ones. . . I have one that makes, like, nine shots. It's cool, but unless you're in the mood to chug a lot of booze, kinda impractical for two people. . ."