fluttering your lashes like ashes and embers

The offering of another shot, now that he was horizontal (mostly) had been intentional and, frankly, calculated. If she couldn't get him to agree to sleep, the whiskey would help things along more naturally. The unfocused glint of his eyes, altogether different than the eerie spin from when he'd been an undead thing. More human. A little endearing, too, when combined with the careful way he set his glass down to ensure it didn't tip over or wobble.

Her face turned to him when sat up and - oh for fuck's sake. What did she have to do to get the man to stay parallel on that bed? Pin him there herself??

But she set that aside for the moment and looked at him, because it was an odd question to ask, unless there was something there to be uncovered.

And the more she stared at Alastor as this version of himself, the carefully styled wave of his hair, the tone of his skin, flushed with the appearance of life now but still a pointedly different shade than her own. There were hints, if one really looked. Would she have gotten there had he not led her so willingly, perhaps, perhaps not, but Lotte couldn't imagine how she'd missed it now and the realization was clear and bright in her eyes.

"Well out here you might have been drowned at birth, if you even made it out to begin with." Lotte lowered herself to sit against the dress, setting her glass next to his and pulling her knees in close to her chest.

"That's disappointing... I figured people there would be different. More tolerant, maybe." Lotte leaned her head back against the wood, looking at him. It certainly didn't change her opinion on him... if anything it was the opposite.

"Guess it's a good thing we're going back, then. Sounds like someone needs to teach them a lesson."