[ Admittedly, he was hoping that even the act of a toast would help to ease the mood somewhat. But when Mona talks, it's in a tone that's surprisingly formal, and Kaveh finds himself stuttering on a silent syllable or two before he sips at his own wine— and then "sips" again, a deep drink before he lowers the glass. It's a blessing of sorts that the effects of the drink take place quickly, warming him and stirring a good mood right out of the ashes of his discomfort, and when he smiles this time it's somewhat more genuine. ]

There's no need to feel you have to be formal, Mona. I think it's fair to say we're both in a new kind of situation— I won't judge you, if you don't judge me.

[ He chuckles, and sips again. There's still warmth in his cheeks, still shyness, but the drink gives him just enough of an edge to push through it. ]

Will you tell me about what you like?