I hope I find one of yours. I hope it's totally mortifying and I can hold it against you for forever.

[ But he's clearly joking, if the smile on his face is any indication.

For the moment, Eliot sets the stone in his pocket, and he gently guides Quentin towards the kitchen. There's not exactly the alcohol supply Eliot is used to when it comes to hosting people, but there's the smell of freshly baked something. Croissants, by the look of it, since Eliot is grabbing a tray of them. ]

It is nice, right? Midge knows how to keep a nice home. Here, eat some of these.