[ Finn is always here to bring that relatable content. And at this point, frankly, he's starting to appreciate anything that can separate him from what can only be described as a spiral of non-productive, high-tension thoughts.

It takes him a second to sort of confirm to himself that yep, he is definitely the one getting talked to, and another second to place 'coffee' in the new vocabulary he's had to start picking up-- same principle as caf, unless every context clue he's heard is completely wrong. It could be. He doesn't know, but he likes his odds of being right. Call it gut instinct.

Finn makes a passable effort to pull himself together, in the face. ]

-- yeah. Yes. [ He clears his throat. ] Maybe. Coffee is definitely something I could... drink.

[ Okay, good, nailing it. Finn runs a hand over his hair. ]

Everything on these tables starts bleeding together after a while.