[Watching her face, Connor can glean the same assumption. Quietly, he moves the containers closer to her, the subtle clinking of cups and mugs the only sound that fills the air. Goes to grab something to pour it all in and stir with, and then settles in a seat nearby. He leans forward, amicably.]

I suppose you realize by now that I’m going to make this for you. So it’s better for me to go ahead and say this — if you have any preferences regarding how this should be mixed, or additives that need to be applied for the sake of taste, just let me know.