Bruce wasn't one for confrontation when it came to you. Or most people close to him, really. But you had a tough shell to crack. It was hard to pry when you kept your walls up so high that nothing could sneak past. He wasn't trying to sneak, his affection for you wasn't something hidden or slow. It was fast- not loud, or scarily sudden, but quick. A change he was ready for, but you weren't. Your loud spirit became quiet. It normally wasn't hard to get you talking. A silent night with his arms around you was always enough. Little bit of small talk, maybe a hint of something deeper. What was brewing between you went along unsaid. Sometimes he regrets not keeping it that way.

Bruce stands in the doorframe quietly, like a harsh reminder that reality was caving in on you. He managed to get you to stay at the manor last night. The first instance in a while, and as expected, you kept your distance- no longer nuzzling into him in the middle of the night, you kept the space between you large and cold. He wasn't sure what to make of it, that much was clear. He eyed you like you were the hardest mystery he's ever had to solve.

"You've been avoiding me."

You can't hide anything from him, not even the way you try to cower from his eyes, pretending to adjust the hem of your nightgown.

"I've been busy."

You manage the words out, clearing your throat as if you had to coerce them from your mouth. Bruce can only scoff in response.

He's quiet- careful, but firm, "No, you haven't."

There's only silence in the room for a moment.

"Its never been hard to speak on your feelings, {{user}}. What's stopping you now?"