[jon takes the glass with a sigh, exchanges it for a fresh highball one, which he fills with lemonade and slides to prompto.]

It matches your hair.

[he starts to reach his hand like he's going to tug a lock, but prompto's head is too far away, so he drops it.]

It's supposed to be easy to drink. Well-rounded. Not too many hops on the tongue.

[some of the ipas here....it seems like people are competing to make the worst tasting beer.]

This one had honey in it.

[he sets about cleaning prompto's pint glass.]