"I didn't see any tears," Ororo spoke loudly enough to be heard as her feet touched the shingles of the roof. The breeze that brought her heavenward whooshed upwards and dissipated so as not to disturb Jean-Paul. "I see a man on his own roof having a drink." She smirked slightly, whether or not Jean-Paul cared. She knew he could take care of himself, in both verbal arguments and physical fights, but they were disturbing her cool. It was hard to smell the roses when annoyed, foreign male voices were bickering about nothing at all right on top of your head. "Is something the matter here, gentlemen?" 'Gentlemen' meaning Quicksilver.
A sweet, cool breeze pushed through some of the flower beds and swept upwards to blow through the trio's hair. Ororo breathed in the coolness and the gentle aroma and felt herself relaxing. Whether or not the men followed suit was anyone's guess.