[L's answering stare is hollow, somewhat glazed, a touch confused.]

You doubted that I would?

[His dark eyes flick momentarily to the island where the macarons are sitting, as if to double-check that all is as it was promised and nothing appears to be dangerous or amiss. It's actually nothing personal; he always approaches situations as though they were designed to put him at ease and lull him into a state of gentle, stupid vulnerability. The result is a constant, guarded, and paranoid status quo that rarely relaxes.]

I teleported here. It's not like anyone could ambush instantaneous travel.

[A pause. Maybe it's significant; maybe not.]

It's one reason I prefer the mode.