"That might be the most comforting thing I've heard." In the midst of all the we were friends, the projects, the guiding people in from the fountain--he'd just wanted to hear this. He could be an asshole, trying to figure it all out. He could fuck up.

Considering Mark is somewhere between sidelong and turning his head to do it, gaze slanting with his eyebrows. Instead of crossing his arms, he shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his over-sized coat. It's had a wash, but it almost makes him look like he's been here a year--he hadn't taken it off until someone took it off him, face down in the snow.

"Have you gotten over it?"