The last thing Juno wanted or had the strength for was an argument, much less having someone raise their voices at her - especially Marco. She shrugged but said nothing. If he wanted to come along, he was coming along. She hadn't the strength to care.
She was about to reply to his question the best she could, but bit her lip when he gestured for her not to. She simply smiled, God knew how, as he went on. And meanwhile pretended to smooth over her clothes and fix her hair as though no one was speaking. Despite her silence Juno felt, at that time, overwhelming affection for Marco, more than she ever had before. He was taking care of her, which in general made her feel pathetic, but it showed that he really cared about her, which she couldn't help but doubt here and there. Because why would anyone? But he did. Actively. She sniffled, letting a few tears drop down her cheeks.
"Other than when I wanted to learn how to make soup I'm usually in at eleven, but since I'm already out, the uniform is on and our baby's here too I say why not?" Like Cecilia had said, she'd be safer behind a counter with a coffee maker and a fryer and a bunch of other things that really hurt if thrown at the face. She approached Marco then, smoothing a thumb over his cheek with affection. "Mi ángelito. Are you ready to go?"