Whiskey Glasses Song Novels & Stories

He orders us both neat whiskey. I don't correct him. I need something to burn away the image of Astrid's perfect white dress and Hayden's stunned expression when I walked away. Dylan raises his glass. "To running into old friends when you least expect it." I clink mine against his. "To surviving high school," I mutter. He laughs under his breath. "God, yeah." We drink. The whiskey is smooth and smoky, and it settles like fire in my chest. Dylan leans his elbows on the bar, staring into his glass.

"Finest whiskey. A toast to a job well done, wouldn't you say?" Their eyes lit up, the professionalism momentarily forgotten. "Whiskey? Well, now, that's mighty generous of you, Richard," the older one said, reaching for a glass. "Only the best for those who deliver," I said, pouring generously. I made sure to pour from the same flask, from the same batch. No special treatment here. "To our… successful collaboration." We clinked glasses. The whiskey was smooth, burning a path down my throat. Theirs, I knew, was doing something else entirely.

"Probably kicked back on some beach somewhere. Living easier than us." Then I raise my glass. Whiskey goes down like pouring into a well—just echoes at the bottom. From here on out, it's mountains and miles between us. I don't ask. I don't want to know.

“Nico is being all annoying with his skin care routine.” I start to stand up, agreeing to the plan, but I nearly gag when I see Frankie pick up Christian’s discarded glass of whiskey and take a hefty sip. “Frankie!” I shriek, laughing. “What!?” he sputters, swallowing in a hurry as I start to smack at him, grabbing for the glass. “You can’t drink whiskey after you brushed your teeth! That’s so gross! That’s sacrilege!” “No, Iris,” he says, laughing and backing away from me, holding the crystal tumbler high out of my reach. “Letting 25-year-old scotch go to waste is sacrilege.”

Fault. “The guy that brought me the bottle said that the boss would be coming to talk to me. I suppose you’re the boss, huh?” “No, I’m not,” he said calmly, downing the drink in one gulp and humming satisfactorily. “Angels Envy.” He grabbed the bottle and admired it in the dim light. “Good whiskey is hard to find these days. Same as a lot of good things, too. It’s so sad, really.” He put the bottle and glass down and looked at me with a smile.

IN THE BAR, GLASSES CLINK, AND echoes with lively chatter. Casper and I raise our glasses, toasting amidst the boisterous voices. "How can I lift your spirit, Mr. Vivaldi?" Casper asks, eyes fixed on my troubled gaze. Tipping my scotch glass, I savor the smoky scent before downing it in one fiery gulp. The burn rushes down my throat as I set the glass back on the counter with a gentle clink.

I turned to her with a smile, “We can have whiskey and wait for everyone to come back.” I handed the gun back to the worker, “Whiskey? Is that okay for your health?” Elvira’s grandma smiled, she walked to the table, picked up two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. She walked back to where I was, she handed me the two glasses, opened the whiskey, and poured it into the glasses. “There are cheat days you know,” She took one glass from my hand and clicked her glass with mine, “And this can be one of the cheat days.”

I waved off and stood up heading for the minibar. I look over my shoulder to see her staring at the exit as if she is contemplating running away or praying someone walks in. "You can't drink Whiskey right?" I asked pouring whiskey into two glasses. "No sir" She replied. "It's a shame I would have been happy to show you my favorite liquor, there is just something about whiskey that keeps me coming for more, this particular one has an impeccable taste" I sipped from one cup and the liquor burned as it traveled down my throat warming my insides.

Some guys playing pool at a corner, and then, others having conversations. "Here." Ava said, passing me a glass of whiskey. I took it from her and murmured a thankyou, bringing the brim of the glass to my lips and titling it so the liquid can flow into my mouth. It went down with a burning sensation down my throat as I chugged the whole thing at once. "Another please." I slid the glass to Ava and as quick as that, she filled it up and returned it to me.

Amara Cross POV I grabbed the big glass, picked up the bottle in front of me with a hand trembling from a mix of anger and excitement, and poured the golden liquid until it nearly spilled over. I slammed the bottle on the table with a sharp clang, then raised the glass and drained it in one gulp. I squeezed my eyes shut as a burning heat ripped down my throat and spread like wildfire across my chest. "Oh my God, Amara, who drinks whiskey from a glass this big?"