"In my view, you have seen enough." He hisses at the other in an embarrassed tone. Ah, now he was throwing money, how dare he—wait, were those 50s and a 100? Narrowed hues of honey veer off to the redhead once more, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he debated on dancing or not.
"move those hips!" he cheered, he was blushing and stupidly giving out 50s and 100s, tequila, oh beautiful curse of the mexican gods. "Dance!" he cheered gladly.