Summer giggled, clutching the bailey’s ice cream to her chest. “Nope! Nope nope nope, you’re cut off and this is mine now!”
Summer looked at him upsidedown from her position on the floor. “Sweetheart, if I /wanted/ to get drunk, I wouldn’t use alcoholic ice cream to do it with. Finish it. I’m just saying, I don’t want to get drunk. There’s no point to it; I’m just as weird without, and I don’t have to get a hangover.”
“I wouldn’t have had to resort to this if I had a choice,” Tony said flippantly, finishing the said ice cream with one mouthful at a time. The circumstance with his younger sister made him think it best if they didn’t have any alcohol in the flat, or anywhere near really, and this was his only way of getting some. “Weird is one way to put it.”
She rolled over, brushing her hair out of her face. “What’s going on?” Not that there was any real expectation of getting him to talk, but she had to ask. It was too much part of who she was, to notice the little twitches that most people couldn’t even see.