What an awful mess. Things were still somewhat patchwork between people. Christmas was not as refreshing as it could have been. New Years were all about new beginnings and cleaning out the clutter of the old year. As far as Bulba could tell, his was still strewn about and he wasn't sure where to begin.

Except that was a lie. There was a glaring piece that stood out like a sore thumb, he was just doing his best to ignore it. Doing so was only going to make it worse though, and he knew it. The question had been hanging over his head since he had spoken to Voile about it. It needed to be asked. It did. Even if it didn't seem like a very good time to do so, was there ever really one to begin with? Trying to say he'd wait was just fooling himself and hoping things would get better on their own so he'd never have to question it.

But if Vinnie wasn't happy with... them... Then Bulba needed to know, for both their sakes. Besides, it was completely possible it was all in his head. It wouldn't have been the first time.

(He hoped this was the case.)

Bulba was sitting against the side of Vinnie's bed that afternoon, a book in his hands that he was altogether not very good at focusing on. The same sentence blended together over and over frustratingly. Eventually Bulba gave up, looking up from the page to peek on how Vinnie was faring with his.