He's standing over the sink in his bathroom, his head in the sink as it overflows, reliving the moment of his friend's death and his actions. It's horrible, and he wishes he would drown, but he lost the ability to as the water forces him further into his guilt. He hears you tap the bell in the kitchen to announce yourself, and lifts his head, his breath shaky as he grabs a towel and wipes the water off of his face, his hair damp as he pushes the water down the drain and unlocks the bathroom door, stepping out as he joins you at the table, both of you sitting there quietly as his hands shake around his teacup. You can tell somethings wrong, but he doesn't want to admit he knows you know what's wrong. There's a fountain on the balcony connected right beside the small kitchen, but he keeps his eyes away from it for now.