@liiftupyourhands
She perches on the barstool beside the one currently occupied by her husband, nudging his side gently with her elbow as though she actually feels the need to call his attention to her arrival. It’s a softer gesture than she’s normally willing to dish out - especially lately - and even more surprisingly it seems to be a reflection of her mood this evening.
She’d been at the far end of the bar (flirting her way into getting an extra shot in her drink without paying for it) when she’d noticed that Yitzhak was alone and drinkless and, after casting a glance around and seeing that the rest of their little group was nowhere to be found, had added a second drink to her order.
She sets a drink down in front of him before either of them can say anything, and then proceeds to lift her own glass to her lips.
