As if he's going to admit to anything more, standing here in the street. And he cannot for the life of him think of anything else to say. He stands there, hands finding his pockets, and is quiet. Jaden clears his throat, and tilts his dark head slightly. Offering him an out, should he wish it.
Nothing's ever that pressing.
He ventures a grin, but it's wry. A strong drink would be a kindness. Jaden nods, agreeably, and returns the grin, though his is a bit wan. We can catch up. And with a beckoning jerk of his head, he starts up the street.