Cryobionic
Seven Thousand Club
"Oh," Oliver nodded, shrugging his shoulders, "Makes sense I guess." He brought his glass to his lips, draining it and relishing in the feeling of the warm embrace of the alcohol, calming his nerves just enough so that his hands stopped shaking, and he relaxed his grip on the glass. "I have a better sense of smell than you," Oliver murmured after a while, watching her try to sniff her hands, "Which is why I noticed."