Ink.

Bad?

"Ugh" I spit out the liquid just as quickly as I'd gulped it down.

"Woah, are you alright?" Gray asks, inhaling deeply on his cigarette whilst idly rummaging through the contents of the fridge.

"Someone's spiked my drink! Bloody b**tards!"

He chuckles and passes me a can of beer.

"Thanks."

It's nearing midnight now and although I hadn't thought it humanly possible, the number of guests has doubled meaning that there are a lot less places to go sneak off to. This is disappointing as I'd really been looking forward to teaching that bloke from earlier a well earned lesson on how to behave. Oh well, I'll have to single him out some other time. On the other hand, perhaps all this party atmosphere could get my mind off the whole motor bike incident.

"Isabelle?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you a bad person?"

"I don't know," I reply. "It really does depend on what you class as bad."

Gray smiles and folds his arms. "Yeah, I guess it does, doesn't it?" He sighs and appears lost in thought for a second. "So do you think you're bad?"

The question catches me off guard the second time. Do I? Am I? What about my line of work? But then it is work and not something I do for pleasure.

"No."

"No?"

"I'm not a bad person. Bad tempered maybe but not bad."

"Hmm," Gray nods, folding his arms and looking out of the window at the drunken party animals. "But murder's a bad thing though."

Wait? Does he- but, how? Surely not-

"Obviously you've never done that before," he chuckles.

I grimace, my body posture becomes rigid. "Nope."

"But would you be friends with a murderer?"

"Well maybe, if they were truly sorry or-"

"Yes! That's it, isn't it? If you've done something bad and you're sorry then it's in the past. Like how God says or something along those lines."

"Wow," I say. "Didn't know you were into religion or anything."

"Oh I'm not," he snorts. "But some things from that book do make sense."

I look at his expression. It's very mixed but he no longer seems to be urging his questions towards me so it's alright. He looks thoughtful though, almost as if-

"Lets dance!" I chirp, tugging at his sleeve and beckoning to go into the other room. I really need to stop over thinking things before I go insane.

"Dance?"

"Yeah," I smile. "Dance!"

I grab hold of his wrist and playfully drag him into the busiest room. People are everywhere; dancing, drinking, laughing. In fact, most faces are barely recognisable amongst the various lights-all I see are colourful blobs sauntering round the room. Well I say sauntering. It's more like stumbling over each other whilst trying to keep their glasses upright.