"I don't know." He finally takes a drink. "I don't think so." The alternatives he can think of are fucking with his head with magic, which -- no.

Wolfgang shifts uncomfortably, now more just playing absently with the bottle. "Sorry," he says, about apologising, which... is not him being cheeky, but he catches himself, winces, opens his mouth, then closes it firmly. Apologising for apologising for apologising may be utterly ridiculous but so is he, and he could very well get caught in some kind of infinite loop.