The lights in Buck's Bar were dim, the jukebox playing a mix of old country tunes and classic rock. Everest sat slumped over the high-top table, idly spinning her empty glass. Andrew, seated across from her, had a lopsided grin on his face, his cheeks pink from a few too many drinks.

"You know, I've never seen you this...relaxed," Andrew said, his words slightly slurred but still teasing.

"Relaxed?" Everest tilted her head at him, eyebrows raised. "I'm not relaxed. I'm..." She trailed off, gesturing vaguely at her drink. "I'm just...not thinking about anything."

Andrew leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, his expression softer now. "You should do that more often. Not think so much. You're always carrying the weight of the world."

Everest rolled her eyes, though there was no bite to it. "You sound like Bug."

"Well," he said, tapping his finger on the table for emphasis, "Bug's got a point. You, Dr. Sawyer, are too hard on yourself."

She snorted, shaking her head. "I'm not hard on myself. I'm just—"

"Don't even start," he cut in, his grin fading slightly. "You know, you're incredible, right? Like...in every possible way."

Everest blinked, caught off guard. "Andrew, you're drunk."

"Sure, maybe," he said with a shrug. "But drunk me is just saying what sober me's been thinking for a while."

Her cheeks flushed, though she tried to play it off. "You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Nah." He smiled at her, this time without the teasing edge. "I'm just lucky. Lucky to know you, Everest."

Everest stared at him, her mind scrambling for something to say. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Something stirred in her chest—something warm and terrifying all at once.

"I—" she started, her voice quieter than usual. "I don't know what to say to that."

"You don't have to say anything," Andrew replied, leaning back in his chair, still watching her with that steady, unshakable gaze.

"No," she said quickly, frowning slightly. "I feel like I do. It's just..." She looked down at the table, tracing the edge of her glass. "You're the only person I've never had to pretend with. That's rare for me. I can't explain it, but you make everything feel...lighter. Easier, even when it shouldn't be."

Andrew's eyes softened, and for once, he didn't have a quick comeback. He just smiled, that rare, genuine smile that made Everest's heart trip over itself.

"Everest Sawyer," he murmured, shaking his head, "you're something else."

She huffed a laugh, sitting back in her seat. "Don't go getting all sentimental on me, Taylor. I'm not sure I can handle it."

"Too late," he quipped, raising his glass in a mock toast. "Here's to being sentimental. Someone's got to do it."

She shook her head, laughing softly despite herself. "You're impossible."

"And you're stuck with me," Andrew replied, his grin returning, just a little brighter than before.