Dean found Brooke sitting alone at the table with her head low. Her cheeks were rosy, and there was a glass of beer in her hand that she didn't seem to enjoy, yet drank nonetheless.
He had just come from storm outside and was shuffling the loose snow off his pants when he noticed the woman looking depressed.
She didn't seem to look up at him, and was instead too focused on the flooring, sighing in between sips. Wincing at the taste every time and yet drinking it all the same.
"You know you're not the first fiancée I've had that hated my guts, right?"
Brooke twitched when she heard Dean's voice and nearly choked on her beer, glaring at him after recovering from her coughing fit.
"Asshole! You scared the shit out of me! Also, what kind of crap is this? It tastes terrible!"
Dean chuckled as he poured himself a cup. Shaking his head as he took a sip and sighed in relief.
