[ Would he ever. Felix plops into the chair like he's unable to obey the command even if he wanted to, his elbows on the table, hand cupping his chin, looking intently at Felix.

It's probably too much. He should probably just keep it cool. Felix is clam and collected, isn't he? He always tries to be. It never quite works out, but this is--this is Remus, his Remus, and he's been in this world for as long as he can remember and Remus is the only one that makes his heart flutter and his mouth dry.

At least dogs still like him. He's going to ask about that in a second, actually, but first: ]

Next drink's on me, then--though it's not alcohol, it's tea, the gesture still stands, I hope. What are you writing?