After a moment's consideration, Ravel crossed from the sink to the table and slid into the chair opposite Bakura. "I suppose... if you're inviting me to mock you, it would be rude to refuse."
It wasn't much of a joke, but it was at least an attempt. No smile accompanied the joke, however, and his expression was largely vacant. Despite the mention of wine, Ravel reached for the fork instead, poking at the plate for a minute before finally taking a bite.
Maybe facing the people outside was what he deserved. No, scratch that. It was what he deserved. There wasn't much chance of it actually making him feel better, however. He doubted anyone would forget what had happened after a single night, so maybe taking one night to avoid the worst of the backlash wasn't so bad.
Ravel washed the bite down with a sip of wine--which wasn't the worst he'd ever had--then stared at his plate for a long moment before speaking again.
no subject
It wasn't much of a joke, but it was at least an attempt. No smile accompanied the joke, however, and his expression was largely vacant. Despite the mention of wine, Ravel reached for the fork instead, poking at the plate for a minute before finally taking a bite.
Maybe facing the people outside was what he deserved. No, scratch that. It was what he deserved. There wasn't much chance of it actually making him feel better, however. He doubted anyone would forget what had happened after a single night, so maybe taking one night to avoid the worst of the backlash wasn't so bad.
Ravel washed the bite down with a sip of wine--which wasn't the worst he'd ever had--then stared at his plate for a long moment before speaking again.
"How many were hurt? Has anyone...?"
Was he a murderer? Again?