It genuinely does not occur to her that he should, theoretically, be melting her hand right off. After all, if he has real legs, then he must have real arms, and real arms don't burn people straight to the bone. She shakes his hand with the confidence that is somehow only possessed by deeply intoxicated white girls, beaming at him.

"Yeah!" she says, tilting her head to one side, then begins ticking off the major events of her arrival to now. "They threw me down in the dungeon for a month, didn't even ask my name before they decided I was guilty of... somethin'. They never did say what they thought I did. I mean, I did wind up in solitary, but I was already locked up down there before that happened. Then that guy let us out, and now I'm here. It's the first time I'm ever meetin' most folks, and I gotta do it here, but that's okay."

Then there is a brief pause, and she seems to realize something. "Oh!" she says, holding up hand. "You don't have a drink. You need a drink. Wait here." She jogs away (surprisingly well, considering her state of inebriation and the fact that she's wearing five inch heels), then comes back with a red Solo cup filled with quite possibly the strongest drink ever created in Abraxas. The cup is pressed into his hand despite any objections, with only the most authentic grin. "There you go. I made it myself, the punch."

There is a very real possibility she will cry if he rejects it. This is what you get for not just letting her think she was hallucinating, Kylo.