"Black," he said. There was a pause and he lifted a hand to his mouth as he coughed out "half-cream" into it. He'd always had to sneak that much creamer into his coffee back in Georgia, growing up, if he wanted to be able to stand it. But the rest of his family had drunk it black, so he'd gotten used to ordering it that way, too. The manner of requesting how he actually preferred it was mostly reflex. Still something he was trying to train himself out of.

His eyes flicked from the ground to meet hers and a genuine smile of shy embarrassment twisted his lips upward before he could duck his head. He cleared his throat and said in a louder voice, trying to own his preferences, "Half-cream. No sugar."