john&rose
"How many--how many drinks?" He repeated in a labored fashion, mind attempting to calculate the exact number. Had he been the man from his dreams, perhaps he could remember, though John couldn't quite reason why that was. The perils of intoxication. "Are you implying I've had more than what I ought to have had? Because you might be right," he finished, chuckle in his voice.
"This is water," he said, giving the glass a careful shake so as not to spill its contents. He needed the hydration. "I hope. Think it is?" Mindfully untangling his arm bout her, John circled around to stand in front of Rose as he sniffed at the contents of his glass. It had a hint of alcohol to it, though that might have been because alcohol had previously occupied its depths. "More water than alcohol," he decided.
"Anyway, don't know how many I've had, this glass is exceptionally deep," he grinned. "And you? Having fun? Doing all right? Zeroed in on a bloke to snog at midnight?" He asked rapidly, then straightened to put a hand to his forehead in a mock-survey of the room on her behalf.