Octavia rattled off the time on the nearest clock - a little too early on a Sunday morning for them, maybe slightly less so for her - then got to work on the coffee. Thinking about how Duke had sounded... groggy, more than anything. Maybe that meant he was fine, again?

So, that just left her. Again.

She didn't really know how to feel. (Except antsy, of course.)

But she eventually got the coffee together. Found a little tray, filled three mugs. Grabbed the Bailey's - was that a bad idea? - then picked up the whole thing, brought it carefully into the bedroom. "Well, here's coffee."

(They looked way too good, snuggled up. Definitely a pollen thing.)