Over their younger years, Charles has built up a tolerance of violence, even on a smaller level like this, and allows himself to yield to it, to be dragged to the side as if he were nothing more than a rag-doll with only the anxious tension lingering in his back and shoulders to keep him upright.

"Raven, please, do calm yourself," he looks around them, a couple holding hands passing on the other side of the street peering over in their direction to see what the fuss is about, "Remember where we are."

Charles, though he might be blind to a lot of things even with the ability to read minds, knows that this isn't simply going to blow over. He sighs, playing for time while he attempts to think better of the next reply. "I admit that my words were harsh, love, but you and I both know that we aren't yet able to throw ourselves into the world. If more than your fingers had turned blue tonight, then I might not have been able to prevent a panic in time. Surely you can understand the caution that I enforce us to take?"