Perrine thought his sad expression was slightly puppy-ish and endearing, and she actually felt a twinge of sympathy for the man. Although she wasn't exactly a move-fast type gal herself, she knew that there were some folk that preferred 'adult fun time' over the more emotional side of romance. "Well, why d'you think you prefer to 'move too quickly'?" She took another shot, and her vision blurred over for a moment, the man across from her turning into Renaud for a second, and she cringed at the memories his face brought back. "Headache," she murmured as an explanation for the wince and waited for him to go on.

This conversation was strangely therapeutic. "I don't know," he admitted. "I'm– I guess I'm just afraid that it'll be over really quickly, so I try to make everything happen really quickly as well." Anthony looked a bit concerned as she winced, but it mostly faded when she explained the reason for it.

Perrine pursed her lips together. "Well, that's a start." She slid him another shot and downed it at the same time as him if he chose to take it. "Mayhaps part of your problem is that your fear of things being over too quickly has created a need for you to speed things along, and it's become too fast for those you're interested in." Perrine hadn't talked this much to someone in months, and she found she kind of missed it, even if she was advising a man on his potentially-male-interested love life.

Anthony had stopped drinking, for the moment. "I don't know," he frowned. "that's probably it. I– I just always want to get to the 'good parts' as quickly as I can and so I keep rushing through everything and they don't like that and—" he groaned in frustration, and hid his face with his hands in embarrasment. It was embarrassing for him to get this emotional about his relationships when talking to this random stranger.

Perrine gave a small smirk as he buried his face in his hands. She half-felt bad for the man and half-sympathized with whoever he was specifically talking about. Rushed relationships weren't really her thing, but who was she to judge? Her opinion only ever mattered to one person: Renaud. And he was no longer a part of her life. In fact, he broke her belief that he actually cared about her and considered her thoughts when he ran off three days before their wedding. Bastard, she thought for the millionth time when thinking of her former fiance, even though she still kept her engagement ring in a box under her pillow. "Seems like both our love lives are flaming garbage," she jested darkly, taking three more shots in quick succession then offering him the rest.

After some time spent wallowing in misery, Anthony sat up straight again and stopped hiding his face. He finally started drinking again, because there was really nothing else for him to do. "I'm sorry that yours is bad  too," he sympathized with her, and took her little joke way too seriously. "I hope it won't be that way for long." Anthony ran his fingers through his hair, because he felt weird just not doing anything.

Perrine gave a sharp breath of wry laughter. "Preach," she muttered, leaning back in the booth as her mind started to slow her train of thought, the copious amounts of alcohol she'd consumed starting to take their toll. After a long moment of thinking, she added, her voice back to its normal volume, "Considering the world we live in... Well, the whole 'true love' thing didn't exactly work out for me, or you, it sounds like. I suppose it'll have to be one way or the other: we find elation in love or we fall into despair because of it." Perrine often started to waxed poetic when she was this drunk. "We'll only know in time, I suppose." She sat up a little and chuckled, then hiccupped. Yep, she was definitely more intoxicated than usual. "Howsabout this: if I ever get married, you're invited, mhmm?"

Anthony laughed as well, albeit a bit awkwardly. He kept drinking, though he listened intently regardless of that. "Yeah, I totally agree with you," he said, his mind a little bit too foggy now to be able to reply with another well thought-out sentence. He laughed again as she essentially invited him to her wedding, but he also took it way too seriously. Were they best friends, now? Well, they were so for now, at least. "oh...that's sweet. I won't get married, probably, but if I do, you're invited as well. Promise."

Perrine gave a lopsided grin and extended her hand across the table, her pinkie finger outstretched. This was something she hadn't done since she was seven years old, at least. "Pinkie-promise?" she said, giggling as the combination of rum and whiskey messed with her mind.

Anthony giggled like a child as well, and extended his hand to her. "Yes. Pinkie-promise," he repeated as if to confirm it. Was it just the alcohol, or did this woman really feel like a good best friend, to him?