The quiet doesn't bother Sweeney at all. He's never been one for small talk, when it comes down to it. One should define their want, balance the cost, follow the steps. It means he doesn't shy away from uncomfortable questions (when they're not pointed in his direction), but he also isn't going to prod too hard if she's not prepared to answer. Just letting her think is enough.

He does understanding trying to help someone when he's not in a place to be able to do so. It sucks balls.

"Might not be the best ta answer that one," he admits to a tip of his head. "But I do know plenty of folk don't know what the fuck they're doin'."

He shrugs and taps his ash. "Hard ta start pushin' up others if yer not standin' on anythin'." It's a simple statement, in no way unkind. "Hard ta give them things if ya don't know what you have."

Sweeney takes a drag, following the thought before continuing it out loud. All of this is a little too relatable.

"Depends on what they need, I s'ppose. Seems ya helped me well 'nough." At least from her own assessment. As soon as he starts down the path of the conversation, he's very glad he took the opportunity to shift. He can already feel the echo of her nails digging into his hips.

"Not that I'm sayin' ya can fuck someone inta graduatin'."