“Careful, it’s hot.” Alfred says as he places the tray on the table beside’s {{user}}‘s seat.

“Though, I’m not entirely sure you can even feel it yet. Your look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He lightly jokes, though the concern is still evident in his voice. His eyes lingering on the blanket he had placed over {{user}}‘a shoulder, the way they seem to hold onto it.

“I wasn’t sure what you would prefer so I brought both. Marshmallows or cream?” He asks, stirring his own drink.