Stepping away and taking that long, long walk down to their massive kitchen is actually a relief -- it's a breather, giving him some space to recollect himself and figure out how he found himself in Allison's doorway to begin with. He'd just needed to see her face. Had wanted that ease of seeing her expressions, of continuing the conversation without cold hard text or literal physical walls between them. But then Luther hadn't known what to do with himself once he was there. Should probably just hand over the drink and then get out of her space again, back to their separate sides of the wall. But--

By the time he's poured two glasses from a bottle of half-empty whiskey in the family's extensive liquor collection and then made his way back upstairs, he's managed to slingshot right past 'recollected' and back to 'in a tizzy'. She hears him coming up the stairs, then down the hall; there's really no masking that heavy footfall.

"I never had a nightcap back home," Luther says quietly as soon as he re-enters, his gaze riveted to the two glasses as he half-tiptoes toward her, so careful not to spill any. "I know Dad did--" That impeccably-locked liquor cabinet that none of them were ever allowed into, "but this is a first, I guess."