"What do you suppose they think about all day?"
"Hm? Who?"
Marik wrinkled his nose attractively. "Them," he gestured to the passing crowd with his coffee cup. "Normal people."
Bakura chuckled. "How should I know?" He took a swig of tea, smiling behind the cup. "Neither of us have that distinction. And if one of us were to have any sort of insight into the minds of others, that would be you, not me."
A quiet, regretful laugh. Marik's eyes scanning the crowd. "That one's thinking of breakfast," he muttered, narrowing in on a dazed looking brunette woman, rushing half-asleep towards the metro station with her jacket half unbuttoned. "She woke up late and didn't have a chance to eat."
"Why'd she wake up late?" Bakura asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Her lover distracted her, obviously," Marik smirked, rubbing Bakura's leg with his foot. "Started fooling around and they lost track of time. Look…she's still smiling a little, all the same."
Bakura sniffed, his eyes wandering through the crowd. "Fine, what about him?" He pointed with his gaze to a man in a tan trench coat.
"He's going to work, where he clearly doesn't want to be…see how he's hunched over? He's dreading it."
Bakura nodded, gazing into his cup. "I don't envy him," he muttered thoughtfully.
"Mm," Marik stared after him for a moment, thinking. "I can't picture it," he said finally, a smile creeping onto his face. "Either of us working like that…"
"In an office?" Bakura shook his head. "Never. You'd be fired in a day."
Marik laughed. "From hooking up in a janitor's closet. With you."
A chuckle, drifting away with the steam of his tea. "Precisely."