[Connor actually puts his hands in his pockets, yet one more learned gesture amongst a growing litany of them. It’s a vie to appear casual, to release any of the pressured anxiety that might have built up in that enclosed space of the game booth. Never mind the stupid headgear he still has.]

Magic lessons? I guess I wouldn’t mind.

[Card tricks? That would just go hand-in-hand (no pun intended) with coin tricks, after all — joking or not, Connor might take it it with surprising (or not-so-surprising) ease.

The cafe draws closer, and olfactory sensors pick up the wafting presence coffee, darkly-scented in the air.]

Here’s fine. But you can have enough for the both of us, considering I don’t eat nor drink.

[What’s that about Prompto not having the coffee.]