"Practicing our manners for the trip home, are we, Bene?"

Loki's voice preceeds him by a few steps. He has been a bit further in the apartments, not quite as bothered by the warmth of the indoors as much as Lexie. She is clad for staying in and, as a perfect gentleman, he has dressed down to match her.

This is not, of course, to say that he is dressed poorly. His black shirt and trousers are perfectly pressed and tailored. They are respectable in form and quality save, perhaps, for the way the front of his shirt is a bit unlaced. To nearly his navel. It hangs mostly closed. Mostly.

"Here you are, Lady de la Fontaine," Loki says as he steps alongside the chaise, two perspiring glasses of something sweet and likely alcoholic in hand. He extends one for her, on the side that Bene is kissing, and regards the other man with an arched brow.

"My apologies." He doesnt look even slightly sorry. "You shall have to ring for your own, my friend."