Maria's lips curved down in a frown. "That never solves anything." It was something she would believe until her dying day. It wasn't that Maria didn't enjoy a drink every now and again, she did, it was the fact that she didn't believe in drinking to the point of losing her faculties (then again it might be the fact that she's never tried it before).
She can't help staring at him. At how young he looks. It isn't as if he aged badly, in fact, he'd aged very well indeed (aside from the wicked widows peek he was gaining). It was the lack of worry that had been in his face when she'd first seen him. But it was there now. Deep and sad. She reaches out to brush some stray hairs back behind his ears. "Why don't you try talking to me about it?"