❝ i said it’s nothing, helen. just… quit PRYING. ❞
he doesn’t mean it– not really. && isn’t that what makes hindsight such a grand spectacle? the instant the words fly from the tongue, it relays itself… instantaneous contrition.
and regret; the ENDLESS, nauseating cycle of regret. clouding his airways, dripping, slithering down through his esophagus and into the pits of his stomach. his mind the next to fall prey… some days it moves with heft, a dreadful aura overtaking him in segments… disturbing the peace ( if there was any to BEGIN with ). on others, a quickfire killjoy, and he’s back at square one just as soon as he’d initiated the slightest progress.
she is fifth or sixth in a growing line of those who have posed similar inquiries tonight, and– if bruce is being candid– the least deserving of such a heated response. his AGITATION is geared more at the others, at himself.
SNAPPING, snapping… a twig, bending beneath the impact, the force of devastating blow after devastating blow. the human brain can only withstand so much INANE activity. to abstain from lashing out would be a crime against humanity.
he bears helen no malice. in actuality, admires her a shade too intensely. a refreshing presence in the MIDST of the turmoil the rest so fiercely embody. always a pleasant surprise, finding her face among the mixture– so attentive in the lab– patient and undemanding. rarely distracted. ( not like tony. ) and so knowledgeable. betty would have sought to recruit her, no doubt.
❝ had a flashback this morning… vivid, too. ❞ a dull && gentle hum, an offering, compensation for the outburst. NERVOUS clear of the throat. ❝ suffice it to say i am not in the best of headspaces… again. that’s all. ❞
( there. secret’s out. are they SATISFIED ?? )