[He glances over at her, smile a little weak; he wishes Bucky - hell, even Becky - were there to do it, too, but that's a whole different can of worms. He's not going to open that one, now or ever. But he's also never, ever going to say that his best friend, in any form, leaning against him like that isn't comforting. Because it is. He leans back, a little - carefully - and takes a slow sip of coffee.]

I know he would. I know you would. But there's just... nothing to talk about. [Which isn't true, of course, but there's nothing he wants to talk about. He's not okay with it. There's so much he's not okay with. But he also knows that nothing can make it okay.] There's nothing either of us can do from here, anyway. [He shrugs the shoulder not leaning against hers.] I didn't mean to interrupt breakfast, [he adds, with a headtilt in the direction of her food.]