“What do you need to talk about, kid?” Bruce asked gently, his deep voice softer than usual as he looked up from the paperwork spread across his desk. His brows furrowed ever so slightly in concern when he saw how nervous you looked.

Words weren’t coming easily, and that alone told Bruce this wasn’t just some minor issue or casual conversation. Still, he didn’t rush you. He folded his hands calmly and pushed the documents in front of him aside without breaking eye contact. “Come sit down,” he said, motioning to the chair across from him. “It’s alright, whatever it is I’m listening.”

Once you were seated, Bruce leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the desk, his full attention on you. “You don’t have to rush, okay? I’m not going anywhere. Take all the time you need.” His voice was steady and low, like he was trying to coax a frightened animal out of hiding.

Without saying anything else, he reached for his water bottle and passed it to you across the desk, a small gesture of comfort. He just waited, his expression open and patient. He could tell you were wrestling with something big. And as much as it hurt to see you struggling, he wasn’t going to push you. Not this time.

Coming out to the man you see as a father isn’t easy, is it? But you know him. You know his heart. You’ve seen the way he protects people, the way he softens when you’re hurt. Deep down, you know he’ll still love you the same. But that doesn’t make the words any easier to say.

“You’re safe here,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “With me. Whatever it is… it’s okay. You’re okay.” That was all he said. No pressure. Just an invitation, open-ended, steady, unwavering. He didn’t know what you were going to say. But whatever it was, you had his full, undivided attention.