[ Whatever the circumstances, generally, Nanami's face is about as animated as a stone. When Cloud puts his own glass down in front of him, the one he'd just taken a sip from, Nanami's features don't only shift — his eyebrows raise a solid half-inch and hold. At least he manages himself well enough that it's only once Cloud's turned to get himself a fresh glass that his mouth twitches.

First perplexed, then indignation (not for himself so much as basic etiquette and the integrity of the drink) vies with plain, unmistakable amusement. Nanami's too particular with his own speech not to take responsibility. He'd said another drink not another new drink. Though they both knew what he meant, Cloud had done the job in a manner Nanami knows well — more form, less substance.

When Cloud finally sits, it's next to him, leaving Nanami to shake his head rather than give him a look, one that might've cracked enough stoicism to expose a sentiment along the lines of, you shit. Recognition, not ire. Because he's not about to turn just for that, he settles for taking an indifferent sip of the secondhand beer, also looking straightahead. ]

Too bad. Since I won't be needing you to cut down monsters on my behalf, your strength wouldn't be too appealing.

[ Then, it's too quick for Nanami to feel it, that glance. There's just enough inflection in that reminder for Nanami to take another drink, brim over upper lip. ]

Isn't it you who forgot? A mercenary should agree on payment before doing the job. I've already got the drink. Used, too. How about a discount for that?