[How does it always feel like they can have very private moments even when they are amidst a crowd of people? He's looking back down at her, seeing that curiosity—and something else?—in her eyes, and for a minute it feels like he could tell her about any of it. Jess. Azazel. The apocalypse. But as his mind builds the list it gets too long, too heavy, too much and the minute is over and he looks away from those eyes again.]
I'm sorry about your parents. I know how that can change things. [God, did he know.]