Murmur is very good at keeping feelings concealed, outside of the glyphlink - those small glimpses of guilt and sadness and regret surprise Jon, even as they mirror his own concealed feelings. And he desperately wants to ask, to know more, to pull at the string and untangle the web of mystery that surrounds the angel - but he fights down that impulse. It’s a struggle, but necessary; Jon thinks such an invasion wouldn’t go well for him, and he’d rather not ruin the bond just beginning between them.

“I don’t have any siblings of my own, but I understand that’s a fairly common situation among humans as well.” Jon sometimes wondered whether he’d been better off an only child. A sibling might’ve been an ally, someone who could understand Jon where other children couldn’t, but it was just as likely a sibling would’ve bullied and tormented him the same as his peers - worse, perhaps, for knowing Jon more closely and thus knowing the exact points to cause the most pain.

Probably for the best that he hadn’t any siblings, given the direction his life has taken. Jon already felt responsible for losing colleagues in the battle between the Entities - Sasha for certain, likely Daisy and Tim and Basira as well now. He’d already endangered Georgie and the Admiral by hiding out with them - he doesn’t want to imagine how much danger a family member might’ve faced because of him. Thank goodness his grandmother passed years ago.

Murmur is full of surprises today, it seems - the offer of gloves catches Jon entirely off guard. He stares at the angel quizzically for a moment, mouth agape, like the idea of such a simple kind gesture is entirely foreign to him (because it is). Then his expression softens into a smile both sheepish and fond, and he extends a hand to accept the gloves.

“I, erm … “ he fumbles for the right words to explain his forgetfulness in acquiring gloves on his own, but halts and simply says: “Thank you.”