It's not, precisely, that Hakkai doesn't look at him. If he'd been reading, or knitting, or something else that absorbed more of his focus, Jedao wouldn't think twice.

It's a teacup, though. And not even one of the good ones.

Jedao goes over to him and puts his hand on the cup, their fingers brushing gently. His hand is warmer than the ceramic.

"Would you like me to make you a fresh one?" Jedao asks. While Hakkai works himself around to whatever's on his mind.