Mmmm, if you’re sure. [koby still draws the line at ducks on the table itself. lincoln seems settled on the other chair, so her fretful keeper exhales, turning on his seat to face goodsir, sipping at his tea and crossing one leg over the other.] She’s gotten really used to sleeping on top of the bookshelves in the library, so I worry about teaching her bad manners.

[then, smiling back, sweetly:] You’re welcome. So have I. I don’t think it’s too forward at all, especially in light of – ah. Last time we spoke. [koby’s ears are pink, but he’s still smiling, bemused by how he’s the more experienced one – for once, nominations notwithstanding. another sip of tea, socked foot bobbing absently where it hovers in midair.]

It does make it different without the alcohol though, doesn’t it? A little more awkward. [gently, looking over the tops of his glasses, koby nudges his mind against goodsir’s, unseen, but there.] You don’t need to be anxious, Harry. I’m not upset with you, really.