[ There are no glasses. Sam's sitting on the floor, back against the bed. One knee drawn up, the other legs stretched out. He's no really looking towards Natasha, just staring into the middle distance. He looks a bit worse than he did in the simulation room, perhaps - something Natasha can easily clock where others couldn't. Sam's poker face is impressive after all. But it holds no candle to her. Naturally.
He just holds out the bottle in silent invitation.
This is not the happy kind of drinking, clearly. ]
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[ There are no glasses. Sam's sitting on the floor, back against the bed. One knee drawn up, the other legs stretched out. He's no really looking towards Natasha, just staring into the middle distance. He looks a bit worse than he did in the simulation room, perhaps - something Natasha can easily clock where others couldn't. Sam's poker face is impressive after all. But it holds no candle to her. Naturally.
He just holds out the bottle in silent invitation.
This is not the happy kind of drinking, clearly. ]