"Pansy..." Fuck. He wanted to hit her for that casual, awful insult, his hand convulsing into a fist, anger fluttering up sharp and hot. But she was drunk and tears were pooling in her eyes and he knew that she was just lashing out to try to get a reaction. He made his fingers relax and then reached out and wrapped his hand around the base of the vodka bottle, held it tight and stopped Pansy from lifting it to her mouth again. She dragged at it but he wouldn't let go.