It's so comforting, enough so that if she were entirely sober she'd be wary of how nice it is. As it is, worn out by the Home and by avoiding it and staying up, she just relaxes, grateful for the trust and grateful, too, for the fact that Marcus isn't rushing her to go back inside or even move from where she sits beside him on this park bench.

Her eyes go a little wider at that revelation. "A priest?" As much to point it out as anything, she steals the cigarette back from his hand and takes a drag, laughing uncertainly as she passes it back. "No, you never did. And I thought you were joking..." There's something about her that feels like she ought to get struck down by lightning, right here, having been acting as she was in front of a priest. Hardly existing in front of one. But he says used to, and he hasn't disapproved, really, either. It's nice, and strange.

She lets his words roll around in her head. "Situations like this one," she repeats, and looks over at him, taking it all in, what use he might have had for a Church. "Demons, that's what you mean. Devils. You got rid of them?"