"Oh, I'm not certain," Quatre said in slight surprise-- he'd noticed the man joining the line behind him just because of the lingering smell of smoke on him, but didn't expect to be addressed, nor did he think much of it at the time. The poor guy seemed to be having a long day. Quatre stepped half out of the line to crane his neck up at the menu better; he's only just over 5 feet tall, and had to duck his head to the side to see past the person in front of him. "The expresso, I believe, though I'm not much of a coffee drinker."

After a moment, he looked up at the man and smiled sympathetically. "Are you alright? You can place your order ahead of mine if you'd like. I'm not in a rush."

(empathy permissions over here if you don't mind!)