[h1][center][color=4286f4][i]Arthur Stanford[/i][/color][/center][/h1] [hr] [center][img]https://s.aolcdn.com/dims-shared/dims3/GLOB/crop/3280x2050+0+121/resize/640x400!/format/jpg/quality/85/https://s.aolcdn.com/hss/storage/midas/73ce8167c00ca1dc68e8468a67c07477/202780896/Photo+Credit+Jordan+Matter.jpg[/img][/center] [hr] Arthur allowed himself a smile as Roman walked off. For a moment, he was worried that it may turn physical, but apparently Roman knew better than to needlessly attack him. Directing his attention back towards Mona, he gestured his head back towards him, quietly saying, "[color=4286f4]Not exactly what I'd call a gentleman.[/color]" He sat down for a moment, laying the food down in front of him, and started to pick at it, working his way up to choking down the food. He did despise that some men could be like Roman, and he knew that, at some point, he'd be back to bother her again, and that there was nothing he could do at that. That seemed to be the central theme of this place; Futility. He couldn't do anything to get himself out of this place, he couldn't do anything about the food, or anything about detestable men like Roman. He figured that this was how prisons broke their inmates, which said worrying things about his current situation. He did consider that he might be feeling a tinge dramatic, but it nevertheless furthered his disgust for this institution. Shoving the first spoonful oh his food into his mouth, he swallowed hard and said ,"[color=4286f4]Of course, if you'd prefer to have lunch by yourself, I'll put myself elsewhere.[/color]" He didn't expect her to take him up on that offer, but he felt like he should still put it out there.