Mar 17, 2018
Sturgis’ eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at the frothing pint. He turned to the bartender, who was clearly more interested in the quidditch match commentated on the wireless. It seemed that everyone at the Glynnis Grill was engrossed in the Irish National versus Fitchburg Finches game far more than him, but that certainly didn’t deter Sturgis from enjoying a drink. Well, not this odd looking beer, but hopefully something else.
Sturgis cleared his throat, feeling somewhat rude for interrupting. “Pardon. This isn’t mine,” he spoke to the bartender, gesturing to the pint. “Could I get Blishen’s on the rocks?”
