He laughed out right at that, but held up his hands in mock surrender. "No worries, I won't try to talk you into drinking to get my way with you. That's not my style. I was curious because it seems to be the go to coping mechanism for dealing with the zombies and having to make due with living in a prison or elsewhere. So, what's the deal with hot sauce and chocolate?"
This girl was a trip. He wondered if she fought to maintain control and if it bothered her if someone got under her skin. Spencer both hated and craved that. Rebekah was a master of control until she decided on her own terms to let go. This one, well she was just a ball of contradictions. It was amusing to watch, and definitely an interesting way to spend the storm.
He took another shot of the alcohol, welcoming the way it made him feel from the inside out. "We don't feel the change in temperature after we're turned. Cold, hot, unless it's fire? Not a big deal. Taking shots of whiskey almost tricks you into feeling human again. Except I have the opposite problem of you. My tolerance is higher now than it was before."