As though on cue, though he was definitely too large and arguably not ugly enough to be a house elf, Gabe bumped open the door to the lounge with his hip, both hands being involved in carrying a bowl piled high with a savoury jumble of rice and vegetables (fork shoved into it) and a dusty, labelless wine bottle with a stained cork wedged in its neck (and an empty glass, dangling upside down from between his fingers).
"They made me paella!" he declared cheerfully, kicking the door shut again behind him. "I love this place." Pausing just inside the door, he looked from Walker to Lazzara and lifted an eyebrow. "What?"