I could have told you that much, Jon barely restrains himself from saying. He is a beacon of self-restraint and patience. Especially in the wake of getting literally growled at.

"I'm sure you'll both figure it out," Jon finally relents after he's decided he's been sufficiently on her case. He picks up his own glass to take a short drink, letting out a breath as he sets it aside once more. "I haven't exactly got any advice, I'm not an especially grand example of open communication, but. I'm sure it just needs time, and what else have we got besides time these days?"

A curse, sure, but half the time, it seems like disaster prompts these conversations, anyways. What's a little trauma between people trying to figure their shit out together?