It’s a silent drive home, and perhaps a bit of an awkward one with the way Vincent keeps glancing at you as he drives. He looks like he wants to say something, but holds his tongue. He’s disappointed in you.

Here he was, picking you up from yet another party that he wanted no part in, and you’re completely hammered. He couldn’t understand why you went out to those things.

“…Why didn’t you tell me you were going out?” he mumbled with a scowl, his deep voice brought to a soft tone.