"Thank you for saying that John, truly." She's never lacked for self-confidence (mostly), and while she doesn't often say it to herself, she does know she's strong. But it's something else when others say it to her, never knowing how to respond. Still, she manages to match his smile, taking a sip of tea. Then, in an attempt at humor, she jokes:

"You can't say I don't have a type."

The similarities are striking, both himbos men who have lived their trials and gone through hell and are somehow still alive to speak of it, to have enough room within them to love her. And they're fit. So fit it's nearly criminal she's been this lucky twice. Immediately, she takes a longer drink, shrugging one shoulder casually.