[ He absolutely, absolutely does not want to talk about it. Or anything else for that matter, but his feet can agree to walk after a small silence where he does and says nothing, his mind wishing he were somewhere else but there.

Which is exactly what walking helps to achieve, actually. It doesn't stop his heart from feeling like a foreign organ in his chest, and the pokéballs around his waist have begun to shiver under the hems of his sweater. Red goes to pluck off from his belt, not really waiting for Alvin in any manner but not rushing to get out either, but stops himself after remembering what he just did to that crate, and--no, it's likely dangerous enough.

But it doesn't cease waves coming from each one (nearly each one), different sets of emotions mingling and trying to influence his own. A hot defensive anger, a gleeful and sinister excitement; confusion torn between action and upset and a cool ice wanting to placate all the rest like an ocean during a storm stuck between its own calm and upset. He swallows hard against it, distracting him from what Alvin said, heard but not acknowledged.

(Alvin just says a lot of things. What a funny guy, that Alvin. He should really just stop.) ]

Actually, I think we should do this another day. [ It's said once they're both present outside the restaurant, Red's hands going to the back of his neck, elbows out. ] I didn't know I would freak out like that! It wasn't so bad yesterday... I'll have to get a hang on it!

[ It's public, but how much better that the closest around him are things already broken, cracks already formed. ]

Hey, if you want, those drinks-- [ He brings his arms down, but turns his head away. ] You can tell me how much they cost. I'll get you the money, okay? I won't forget, so you should tell me.