Cassian takes his glass but doesn't sip right away. Instead, he watches Ruby talk, glancing around when she mentions eight bathrooms (what?) and a pool (double what). "I like coffee." He practically lives on the stuff, so 'like' might be in need of a stronger word, to be honest. "A lot, actually."

Finally, he takes a sip of his vodka. It's top-shelf shit, the kind he usually only has when an older relative is in town and brought it with them. It warms him all the way down, and Cassian shuts his eyes in a brief moment of appreciation. "There's also the scent of the cold air in the snow, in my scent. It's not a common note." Opening his eyes again. "Not for everyone, I guess."