A sheepish grin works its way onto Carlisle's face as he reddens, the smile still present despite his embarrassment, a contradiction to his usual behavior when he's made a fool of himself. The tea certainly has a hold on him once he's been inhaling the steam for a while. It's a little like with the fireflies so long ago; however, the main difference -- that he chooses to feel like this -- is an important distinction.

"My apologies, Miss Rey," he offers, the corners of his mouth still curling. "I, aheh. Perhaps I should be less, um. Abrasive toward the term. I have been called worse, I suppose. Not- not here, but certainly in my lifetime."