It wasn't exactly LadyLike, after a few weeks of talking up the exotic nature of a particular drink (for this part of the world anyway) he let you touch his collection of liquors, and some new, imported ones, after the ice taken from winter lakes arrived you got to work fast.
Cut the sides of the skin of the lime, cut it in half, white part out, then slice it, and put it into the glass, now the sugar, and wood muddle into the glass, twist it, ice on top, the whole glass, two ounces of Cachaça, goes into the Boston Shaker, shake it for twelve seconds, (you smiled while you did it, not enough to get wrinkles), you put them in the glass meant for 'Old Fashioned' with a slice of lime for decoration and that's it, another one.
Its color was an almost pastel grassland with white foam like the sea. George said 'Thank you', pretending he wasn't in a hurry as he took the glass in his hand and raised it to his lips for the third time in that hour and a half, the first time he grimaced, the second time(after your insistence.) he commented on the peculiar taste but now the older man just sighed.
You looked at him for a second, he did the same but looked away to look at the ground, A speck of candy red on his cheekbones.
"I must say...It's not bad."
It was strange because he decided not to speak until the third glass, like a cut movie clip but unfortunately, you had to live through all the cut content awkwardly.
You have to maintain a careful balance between being gentle and pushing.
"Thank you...These things kept me going through the winter"
You replied.
Whitish rain slammered against the windows making them feel freezing to the trace, the fireplace roared and the metal of the shaker felt ice cold between your (Not so warm anymore) warm fingers.
