Llewellyn didn’t mind tea either, of course, though admittedly he preferred it when Rhy made it... He wasn’t very good at making it himself. So his go to, whether he should drink it as much as he did or not, was usually the coffee maker.

But he smiled at the suggestion, “You know me well, dear. Or uh— at least you know my penchant for getting carried away with my notes when I’m in a particular frame of mind.” And he appreciated that, Llewellyn was used to being side-eyed or questioned on his rather chaotic process.

Moving back over to the sofa, he crouched in front of it to give the dog a good little head scratch. “I’m sure he didn’t, he’s far too good at looking woebegone and innocent when he wants to be. You’re a little scoundrel, aren’t you?” The dog gave a rather unimpressed sigh before turning his big sad eyes to Rhy. “But we’ll get something we all can share, hm? Lunch at the market would give us a chance to see if anything else we need for the office sticks out.”