Misandry isn't a crime, but murder is.

"Sure, if it makes you sleep better at night," she shrugged, but on the inside, she felt strange. She'd never cared about making friends, but somehow, she wanted it to work.

"Want something to drink, then?" She asked, grinning. "I've got vodka, if that's your ting, but also others."

"I don't drink, sorry. I'll have orange juice if you have it," she said, fiddling with her hair.

"Why not? Aren't we friends? It's a cultural thing, I insist you accept."

"No. It's a control thing, obviously," she said bluntly. "I don't drink or do anything that impairs my judgement."

"Then I'll only make you drink one glass--I'll have a little more, myself." She beamed. "Now pick your poison--go on."

She furrowed her thick eyebrows.

"No. I'm not drinking."

She snorted.

"What do ai have to do, play truth or dare with you? Come on, one toast, that's all I ask."

"I will take a sip of alcohol and that is it," she conceded, giving in. It was very unlike her, but she had the feeling that Dia wasn't backing down.

"How're vodka shots? She asked, grinning.

"No!" she snapped. "I'm not stupid. Nothing strong."

"Then pick what you want, and I'll pour," she replied, folding her legs so that her skirt hiked up her thighs.

Yelizaveta looked away.

"Something with a low alcohol content. I don't know much about alcohol."

Diamond walked over to a cabinet, pulled out a dark bottle and two shot glasses, and poured them each a shot.

"This shouldn't be too bad--to friendship." She raised her shot glass, waiting for Yelizaveta to follow.

Yelizaveta narrowed her eyes.

"Tell me what it is, first."

"It's just rum--barely worse than beer," she assured her with a smile.

"I don't believe you, but fine," she said, huffing. "If I regret this, I'll kill you."

Yelizaveta had never drank a shot before, so she basically closed her eyes and downed the thing.