Just when he thinks his mind has adjusted to his bewildering surroundings, there's something new for him to absorb. At first, he thinks it's simply sleight of hand. His brain misses the moment the glass appears, presumably from Asra's sleeve. He's always enjoyed the manufactured mystery of card tricks, especially when preformed by handsome boys. There was a boy at boarding school who spent much of his time in the library with a deck of cards, and subsequently, Monty spent much of his time in the library watching those elegant hands manipulate them.

A lot like how he's watching Asra's hands now. There places he'd like for them to wander, particularly beneath the hems of his clothes.

"I can think of a lot worse things than you draped on me for the night," he responds, his eyes wandering to the rest of Asra for just a moment. When he looks back, he finds the liquid being poured for him is a lot darker than the liquid in the pitcher, and the rest of his thoughts drop off as he tries to process it.

He takes the glass with a small amount of hesitation, but his gaze lifts with a dimpled smile. "Now you're just trying to impress me."