[ They're close enough, and Yingxing's eyes are deliberate enough, that Dan Heng notices, easily, the way that they flicker, slow and predatory, down to the wristband he wears and then back up again. The offer of an out seems deliberate, too, suggesting Dan Heng might not want to spend time with him when it's clear to both of them at this point that he very much would.

He has no idea what to do.

So, in the face of that, he does the only thing he can do: deny everything. His lips tremble into a strained smile as he lifts his wrist, sinks a little harder into the stack. ]

This... this was a gift from my best friend. [ True. ] She's a fan, and I... I suppose she thought it would be funny. [ Also true. ] Because of my connection to the band. [ An outright lie. March had given it to him after hours of him silently ogling Blade in a concert video they watched together, and gleefully taken a photo of his shocked, dismayed expression upon pulling it from the box.

He clears his throat. ]

So... yeah. I guess there's no harm in a coffee.