[Leo can't help but snort at Sinclair's reaction. Sure he may be sweating himself, but the burn of spicy food is something he's come to appreciate over time.
With a flick of his wrist, he yoinks a drink out of his inventory. Grape juice, it looks like.]
Here.
[The bottle of juice slides across the table in Sinclair's direction.]
no subject
With a flick of his wrist, he yoinks a drink out of his inventory. Grape juice, it looks like.]
Here.
[The bottle of juice slides across the table in Sinclair's direction.]