He helped himself to a large black bag, clearing away the debris and large fragments of broken glass first. These worldly things meant little to Samael even if they were mostly intact, and he was indiscriminate and indifferent in picking the pieces up off the floor. Worldly things could be easily replaced, and even though it might be different the second time around, sentimental value could be reinvested in new things.
Tea. Angels didn't drink. Didn't sleep, didn't eat, didn't procrastinate. Didn't need to blink except it would scare the people they spoke with and make heaven's messengers even more removed and out of touch with this world.
"I will take some tea," he said, tilting his head a little, looking up at Humility with the type of blank stare that seemed like the Virtue had just told him the answer of the universe in half a sentence.
The stare lasted for all of two seconds before Samael turned his head and shifted his gaze to the rest of the immediate issues he had to address on the floor. He had learned that looking at someone longer than that made them feel uncomfortable or prone to respond in an aggressive manner.