Kelley's head nearly burst into flames when he first saw Harbinger's library. The collection was massive and the lacquer hugged the worn wood beneath it like an older brother protecting his frostbitten sister. Simply put-- it was impressive, causing Kelley to plant himself.
"Would you like a drink?" Harbinger asked, holding back a smug chuckle.
"Ummm... yes. Please. Yes please, sir," Kelley answered boyishly. A drink was exactly what his nerves required.
Harbinger's hired penguin arrived instantaneously, gracefully hoisting an intricately carved silver platter supporting two glasses of golden whisky on ice.
"To you, Kelley," said Harbinger, raising his glass to the ceiling. "And to the infinite possibilities that lie ahead. Cheers." Both men smiled as their drinks collided crisply in mid-air, sending a brooding and extended "ting" into the opulent air around them.
The aged amber whisky burned Kelley's lips upon impact and left an aftertaste behind; an aftertaste so strong and present he felt it tingling in the cracks of his weathered lips on the drive home.
Morning came and the sting was gone. Kelley felt abandoned and brushed his teeth with discernable apprehension.