[ Qubit looks at the mugs for a few seconds before leaning over and taking one. The green one, naturally, which he also sort of considers "his." By now the tea's cooled a little, enough that he can wrap his hands around the mug without much discomfort.
He spends another moment sitting with it, eyes closed, focusing on his other senses. The hot ceramic between his palms. The warmth of steam rising past his face, and its bold, earthy aroma. And from elsewhere in the room, the soft inaudible hum of a bottle lamp (which he made himself, about a week ago, and left here as a gift, pretending it was spontaneous and not something he'd planned and prototyped before he came, to be sure he got it right - )
Finally, he drinks. Slowly at first, but then with more zeal, letting the warmth suffuse into him. In the end, he downs about half of it in one go, and lowers the mug with another sigh. Not relaxed, precisely, or relieved, but... marginally less tense than before. ]
... Thank you.
[ For everything. His patience, his help, the simple act of giving a crap... and the tea, obviously. It does help, somehow, even when he thinks it's just tea. Though it's a new blend, maybe. The flavor's sort of familiar, in that way a lot of unconnected things have struck him as familiar these past few weeks. Isolated data points overlooked in the purge. ]
no subject
He spends another moment sitting with it, eyes closed, focusing on his other senses. The hot ceramic between his palms. The warmth of steam rising past his face, and its bold, earthy aroma. And from elsewhere in the room, the soft inaudible hum of a bottle lamp (which he made himself, about a week ago, and left here as a gift, pretending it was spontaneous and not something he'd planned and prototyped before he came, to be sure he got it right - )
Finally, he drinks. Slowly at first, but then with more zeal, letting the warmth suffuse into him. In the end, he downs about half of it in one go, and lowers the mug with another sigh. Not relaxed, precisely, or relieved, but... marginally less tense than before. ]
... Thank you.
[ For everything. His patience, his help, the simple act of giving a crap... and the tea, obviously. It does help, somehow, even when he thinks it's just tea. Though it's a new blend, maybe. The flavor's sort of familiar, in that way a lot of unconnected things have struck him as familiar these past few weeks. Isolated data points overlooked in the purge. ]
It's good. Chai?