4chan, on the other hand, was hovering above the sink, scrubbing his hands. A piss, had, in fact, been in order, but that was a relatively short business.
Right now, all that mattered was swallowing back his embarrassment. This had just turned into a very adult thing, and 4chan could only ever be 4chan. 18 on the internet, with only nine actual years of walking around on two feet and trying to be a person. He brought a bit of the water up to his face, and tried to drown the red in his cheeks as he contemplated like, and the related implications. He rubbed his temple. He tried to fix his hair. It just hung there, curling ever so slightly into his face.
He thought about what, exactly, he was going to tell Harvard when he sat back down. Maybe he'd just sit down and say nothing. He sighed, realized he was being stared at, and flung the water from his hands in a motion that said fuck you, before tugging a paper towel from the dispenser and drying them. His stomach suddenly felt like it was going to turn itself over, and it wasn't the alcohol- though that certainly wasn't helping. He'd drank it so fast he feared losing his balance. But no. He unbuttoned his collar, and the button underneath it, and straightened himself up.
Composure somewhat regained, he ambled his way back to their table, but didn't dare look Harvard in the face.
Sitting back down in his seat, he stared at the floor.
"You can leave if you want. I- I don't know how to talk sometimes without blurting things out."
His arms crossed in front of his chest. He didn't really want Harvard to leave, but- but he could. If he wanted. It was okay, but it wasn't. He hated that he'd stuck the offer out there. He bit his tongue and tried not to say any more.