"I--- y--- yes! We're, ah--- we're only a short way away, just up the road," Jon stumbles over his words, and even with the impending crisis they'll have to navigate, every touch feeling electric and leaving him completely and utterly scrambled.

It's difficult to finally fully pull away, but he does so at last. That doesn't stop his pace from being just a bit faster than it really ought to be.

After some debacle at the front door (attempting to open it, failing to actually touch it, adjusting awkwardly), Jon leads Martin inside. In it's state of wreckage, with Jon's bedroom door having been broken down by his furious, plague-addled attempts to get to the other side of it, and objects and furniture toppled in the subsequent struggle, it almost looks abandoned. It's hard to stare at for too long, but his couch, upright and largely together, sits towards the furthest wall of his room.

He takes a seat, and gently pats the spot beside him for Martin to join, offering a small, awkward smile.

"Almost tried to offer you tea out of habit, but, you know. I guess we'll have to mark that down as an extra for later...?"