Rosita is... friendly with Astarion. She's learned not to investigate too deeply into what a vampire might have in their refrigerator.

She steps over to set the mug back down on the counter anyway, and picks up the milk, turning it over in her hands for a moment.

"Yeah. I liked cinnamon and cream in mine though. Then black, then -" She shrugs.

"Those of us that are left aren't really picky, mostly. You should know he'll be happy with whatever you put in front of him."