Alec didn't drink often enough with Lenore to know what kind of drunk she was either. She'd gotten talkative and giggly the last time they'd gotten drunk, right before that mission. He wasn't really busy on Thanksgiving. He hated these last two months of the year, and he wasn't entirely sure why. It made him more quiet and withdrawn than any other time of the year. He knew that if he didn't come see her today, he wasn't going to see her on Thanksgiving. He wouldn't even want to talk to her on Thanksgiving. It was likely why he'd accepted this bet, to distract himself from Thanksgiving. And it had actually worked pretty well.
He fucking hated Thanksgiving, but he got even worse around Christmas.
He wasn't stroking through her hair anymore. He was mostly just playing with it between his fingers. "Your hair's soft," he observed, sounding almost as listless as his fingers were. "Is that your conditioner or genetics?"