Lunch.

How creative.

Chardonnay made a face. Of course, she had broken her hand. Of course, this now made eating awkward. Of course, she was now a social outcast.

Obviously.

James came into lunch, looking at his tray as he did so. He looked up, but only briefly, and scanned the dining room before making towards an empty table.

Chardonnay dropped her fork.

"Goddammit!" she muttered, shifting her arm in her sling and wincing.

James blocked out the familiar sound of his ex-girlfriend and licked his lips, forking a bit of broccoli angrily.

Chardonnay flexed her hand and wondered how she could have been stupid enough to let people watch her while she played piano. Then, of course - he'd banged into it, and the lid and closed before she'd moved her hand. hello broken fingers.

She clumsily stabbed her fork at a piece of lettuce.

James dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter. He wasn't hungry. He closed his eyes, running his hands through his hair.

Chardonnay pushed her plate away and stared at the ring on her finger. She didn't know why she still wore it.

(OOC: ... i think he gave her a promise ring? might be wrong.)

(OOC: yeah he did)

James felt like he might be sick again. He'd been having fits like this ever since their argument.

A girl walked over and grinned at James.

"Hi, can I sit here?" she asked.

Chardonnay picked up a chip, and screwed up her npse. Not in the mood.