Tristan was sufficiently on-edge - not in an unpleasant way, but in the way he expected most people were when sitting down to tea with someone they'd just met and rather liked - to read enough into her words for himself. He could imagine any number of confusing options without asking, trying (a little nervously) to work through the possible benefits and negatives of accepting, as he wanted to do.
He realized after a very brief hesitation that he was living up to the cautious part of his reading a little too closely. It wasn't an impression he wanted to give, not in this. And ... he did want to go. "Now, then," he said, trying not to let his smile grow out of control, as he was sure it would look rather stupid just at the moment. "Perfect." He glanced down at his hands as he sipped at his tea, nearly finished. "... I'll try not to get paint on everything, I suppose."