Bakura could feel the glare boring through his menu. It gave him life. It also gave him cruel joy to see how few vegetarian options were available. Petty.
"So, do you go to the same uni as Marik?" Ava asked. She was surprisingly tactful for such a sour beginning. Maybe, she really wanted to get along with her boyfriend's friends.
"No," he answered before his eyes returned to the menu.
"Don't mind him. He's very rude and anti-social," Marik spoke, sitting across from him.
The paralegal lowered his menu to make eye contact with his hypocritical companion. "I'd rather be rude than deceitful. At least, I'm honest about things." It wasn't the most subtle message.
Anger flashed in those lavender eyes. Too quick for him to register, Bakura was being harshly pulled out of his chair and dragged to the toilets. He could see Ava looking horrified at her boyfriend's behaviour. Gemma seemed mildly annoyed in comparison. Luckily, the facility was empty.
He turned his attention towards Marik who continued to regard him with disdain. Suddenly, like a doused flame, the anger vanished and the blond collapsed in on himself. He clutched at his knees, burying his face away from prying eyes. His perfectly styled hair remained intact though. "Why are you here?" he mumbled.
He could almost pity Marik. Almost.
"Marik, have you been taking your medication?" he carefully asked. He knew that's what caused it all. He suspected it since their last meeting. The other Marik.
"I've been so exhausted…I think I forgot some nights," the student admitted feebly, still not moving from his position.
The paralegal stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Living with exhaustion wasn't that difficult. He should know. "Marik, you did plan all of this. You simply can't remember. We've…been talking, even when you aren't always you." He hoped his words were understood. He didn't want to come out and fully say he's had conversations with his other personality again. He wondered if there were more than two. Their last conversation brought up the idea of boxes and Marik spoke of more than one. Could this current Marik be the sad, pathetic one he spoke of? It certainly wasn't the same confident jerk he first met. The idea of three sides to Marik was beginning to make more sense as he considered the shift that just occurred. Could he easily erase the complexity of human emotions by adding another personality into the mix?
"How often?" the blond asked. He had raised his head during the paralegal's musings, but his eyes were still cast down to the tiled floor.
"Only twice." Marik nodded as his finger began tracing the patterns on the tile.
"Don't do that, it's dirty!" Bakura scolded him. He grabbed the Egyptian by the elbow and pulled him up. The student stumbled slightly before approaching the sink, silently washing his hands.
Bakura stood with his arms crossed by the door, he assumed their conversation was over and they would awkwardly rejoin their table. Marik continued to stand by the sink, watching the water droplets fall from his fingertips. "Why Gemma?"
He hadn't been expecting that question, and found it extremely ironic considering Marik was the one to move on first. Move on? You were never a thing. There was nothing to move on from. "She came to me."
"She's only doing it to spite me."
"So am I." He smiled. It was always nice to get a jab in, even if it stung back at your own lack of moralities. He shouldn't have said that. He wasn't using her.
"Maybe you do belong together then," Marik replied in his own attempt to smooth over the subject. He finally left the sink to dry his hands with the available paper towel dispenser.
"I'm not actually dating her to get back at you. It's a nice bonus, but I'm not." He turned to leave, figuring Marik would shortly follow, but not before he heard an angry 'you're an ass!' shot at him.
No one asked questions when Bakura returned to the table, and Marik apologised for having a headache. The paralegal actually believed the headache though considering Marik's history and inconsistent medication apparently.
Small talk had ensued between the women, and slowly Marik began to join in. Bakura would answer when spoken to, keeping up the atmosphere and hoping to get through their dinner as soon as possible. He wanted nothing more than to return to his flat where things were nice and orderly...and blond free.
The student was rather depressive, sitting across from him. He spoke, but there was no joviality in his voice. His eyes seemed dead again. He was no longer Bakura's concern though.
Meanwhile, Ava was trying to hide her own worries by occasionally coaxing Marik out of his selective mutism.
Their server arrived after approximately the fifth attempt at taking their orders. "I see everyone is finally seated and ready I presume?" Their server held up his notepad expectantly. Bakura paid little attention to what the others ordered. He just made sure to get a steak, rare, for Marik's viewing pleasure.
A microscopic part of him protested his actions. Vindication tasted too sweet though, and he had been consuming a particularly bitter diet as of late, courtesy of the blond across from him.
Gemma was chatting away about her applications for a government student job. Apparently, Ava was a politics student as well. He listened to the conversation with little interest, and stared down at his wrist. He'd been meaning to buy a watch lately, but picking out the expensive timepiece had proven to be difficult. There were so many brands and choices. He had time this weekend, maybe he'd finally go buy one? He had money to waste on Cartier or something of the like. Gemma could help him. His thoughts were interrupted by a rather anxious looking waiter. "I'm terribly sorry, sir, but…"
What could be happening now? "Well?"
"The bartender doesn't believe you're of age and is insisting we ask for proof."
His rage felt so calm and subdued that he wondered if he'd gone full circle again. He could actually feel his super-ego working against his id, trying to avoid murder. "Are you suggesting I look younger than eighteen? Like a fucking teenager?" He could not believe this was his reality.
A burst of raucous laughter assaulted his hearing as Marik nearly died from the scene unfolding before him. At least, he was happy.
"I am not. The bartender is." The server was trying his best to save the situation in front of him. Gemma's lips were quirking at the corners in contained amusement. Ava had the decency to remain neutral. He was starting to like Ava the most now.
"I'm probably older than the bloody bartender," Bakura muttered as he began reaching for his wallet.
"I'm certain you bloody aren't," a rather smug voice spoke behind him. The paralegal turned around to be greeted by that arrogant man.
"I forgot you were a bartender, Declan," he replied with unnoticed hatred. Everything could be hidden behind a stoic face.
"I saw you earlier, thought I'd let you have free pints for the evening, but you had to pay somehow. I decided to step in when it looked like poor Thomas might have been crucified." Declan found himself to be so hilarious.
"Do that again and Natalie won't have a boyfriend anymore." He glared at the bartender, refusing to thank him for any gratuities.
"Have a good night, mate," Declan kept his friendly demeanor as he returned to his work station.
"How nice of your friend," Gemma commented.
"He's not my friend," he quickly corrected her. He took a sip of his pint. Vindication still tasted bitter.
"For someone who's so repelled by people, you know a lot of them," Marik spoke before taking a drink of his chosen draft. He looked like he was enjoying it a little too much.
He ignored the student's words and turned his attention towards Ava. Whatever will unnerve Marik. "So, you take the same courses as Gemma?"
She was rightfully surprised but pleased by his change in attitude. "Yes, I do. We even had classes together, but I never knew who she was then."
"Fascinating. Are you in your second year as well?" He almost cringed at how naturally his sarcastic remarks slipped into his speech. Sound nice, dammit.
"I'm actually in my final year."
From the corner of his eye, he could tell Marik was observing them with distaste.
"We were just discussing which classes have the best professors for my next semester," Gemma spoke beside him. He felt her hand slip into his beneath the table. Part of him hoped Marik could see.
"I think that's enough for delayed introductions," Marik interjected.
"Marik, stop being so rude tonight. What is your problem?" Ava finally scolded him.
"He is the rude one." Marik held up an accusatory finger.
Ava quickly swatted his hand down. "Don't point!"
"Please don't have a lovers' squabble at the table. It's awfully rude to your girlfriend," Bakura said with satisfaction. The blond narrowed his eyes in annoyance before leaning back into his chair. He crossed his arms, a sign that he was resigning this fight tonight, but Bakura knew it was only put on hold until they were truly alone.
Like a self-serving masochist, Bakura continued. Tapping into his seldom used charm, he learned so much about Ava, more than he would ever care to in his long miserable life. He kept asking questions, never bothering to remember the answers. The Egyptian remained in his figurative corner, unaffected by his surroundings. Or so it seemed.
Their food arrived and Bakura slackened off on the conversation for a bit, leaving the talking to Gemma. He had run out of mundane questions to irritate Marik with. His bloody plate could do the rest for him anyway.
Marik averted his eyes from his general direction, focusing on his own food. He didn't pay any mind to Bakura for the rest of their meal. It was starting to worry Bakura. Prodding him was losing its appeal.
After ensuring that his knife and fork weren't crossing on his plate, he slipped from his chair. "I'm going out for a quick smoke."
Gemma quirked her brow but didn't question him. That's what he liked about her; she knew when to give him space.
He shrugged on his navy jacket as he walked through the doors, spotting the nearby alley. It wasn't long before his toxic meditation was interrupted.
"Can I borrow a light?" Declan was on break. Joy. He passed his lighter, hoping to higher beings that they could do him a favour and intervene for once in their lives and maybe prove their existence.
"We should go on a double date sometime, I'm sure Natalie would like it," the bartender spoke.
Not a chance. "I'd rather not," he declared monotonously. The bartender still laughed. Why did no one ever take him seriously when he showed his dislike for them?
"Honestly, I feel a little relieved seeing you with someone else," Declan confessed.
Bakura's attempts at ignoring him thus far vanished with such an odd statement. "What?"
"Well, Natalie always seemed fond of you. It kind of reminded me of a Tim and Dawn scenario," the bartender explained.
"We're nothing like Tim and Dawn," he corrected the man at such a poorly drawn reference.
"I know, but receptionist and another guy in the office-"
"Maybe you wouldn't feel so worried if you didn't break up with her so often," he cut him off, snuffing out his cigarette. He'd had enough of this ridiculous conversation. Declan looked sheepish and lost for words, as he should be, letting Bakura leave in peace before his bruised insecurities kicked in.
Supper ended with the couples parting ways, words barely exchanged between Marik and himself. The silence between them unnerved him as time stretched on.
First, it was the relief of no texts. Then, it was the respectful distance held by someone who'd known they'd done wrong. Now, it was the void of the unknown.
No different from any other night, Bakura stared into the dark. A familiar female form heated his side, his mobile out of reach, and mind out of body. Was this what dissociating felt like? This detachment felt awful.