Yeah. That had... uh. Clint sort of stared for a moment when he handed his coffee over, and instead of blushing too (because that would be too much for one room), he decided instead to put his attention toward looking around the work room instead.
He'd always sort of imagined witchy things to be a bit dark and dank (he didn't know why), but it was surprisingly well lit in the room, and so he had no problem at all zeroing in on books and little vials and whatever else was out. Not that he'd have had a problem anyway -- Clint's eyesight was more or less unparalleled.
Everything was labeled nicely, but that didn't mean he knew what any of it was anyway, so he poked at bottles at random, only turning his attention back to Jamie and his newly happy dog when some squeaking started up. "Oh great," he griped when he saw Lucky's tail going a mile a minute, the new toy stuck half in his mouth. "Now he's going to love you more than me."