Stands there proudly. Stubborn proud Spartan noises.

Not until Magnus seated himself did he reach over to retrieve his own mug from a near coffee table; giving his mug a slight careful shimmy so as to not spill. Quite content with his own choice of drink and answered him visually. “Chai,” took a sip before grinning. “Dirty.” More on the brand with the coffee-loving man-- always needed a pinch of it here and there throughout his day; even with his tea. “You-- you fell asleep and it’s cold in København these days.” Assuming the rest was self-explanatory Magnus held back from expressing any form of concern he had. His vision of Fannar being skewed and fragile. It was only natural, he thought, to warm him. “I made cake while you were asleep; eat some.”