( they're very heavy, and heavier specifically at nick's bedroom door, but he hasn't used those ones for months now. still, the magic lingers even if nick ignores it as he leads them into his bedroom. the room itself is nick's usual brand of chaotic, unchanged except for the fact that nick's bed isn't slept in, and seems to be used as a desk for various magical research instead.

(he has an actual desk. the desk is covered in plants.)

the bottle is half-hidden in a drawer somewhere, so nick points at his closet before he starts digging. )

Just take whatever fits, mi casa whatever the fuck, right? ( he probably shouldn't find the subtle snooping endearing but he does — it's been a long time to go without seeing oliver, for nick at least, and the realisation that he's actually here is finally starting to sink in a little. ) Jesus. I can't believe you're actually in my house. Here.

( the bottle of nick's souped up liquor, specifically designed for those with witchy tolerance levels, as promised. )