Benedict’s reaching for his as well. He’s aware it might be too much, and he also isn’t sure what it might be, but he can’t bring himself to deny it. He doesn’t want Silver - or Silver’s friends - to think he’s just delicate socialite.

“To happiness, feigned or otherwise,” he says, a bit cheekily, as he raises his shot in a toast. And when he knocks it back he regrets it, but can’t help his laughter anyway.