invisius
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“Pick your poison.”
It escaped neither man’s notice that Louis was caught in the way that the fabric of Harry’s white work shirt bunched around his shoulders. It took another cough, this time from the other side of the counter, before Louis realized that Harry was now waiting for him to actually answer him. Fidgeting with the cuff of his glove, Louis tried to smile.
“Earl Grey,” he said quickly, hoping that it was actually somewhere on the board. “Scorching.”