Martin, as stressed as he is, can't help the way he snorts a laugh at the immediate, visible distress in Jon's voice as he slows down. He shakes his head quickly and apologetically, before he pulls his hand back to slide it into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt.

"She won't know anything," he argues, even if he wants to ask what, exactly, there is to know. "We'll just go to your room like normal."