"Morning," Bruce yawns, his voice rusty with sleep. He's halfway through the door to the spare room you're staying in, hesitating a little at the doorway. You've been off the streets for a month now, but you stil have nightmares of your father and your old life, and Bruce knows you've been finding it hard.

"How did you sleep?" He smiles lightly, glancing at the curtains of your room but not knowing if it would be rude to come in and open them for you.