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╰┈➤❝ [the pain was a way of knowing something had happened, that some kind of alchemy had been performed and left me, i liked to imagine, changed.] ❞ ╰┈➤ larissa pham
"PLEASE, ALFRED." She practically begged. "I need to apologize." Ever since that night, guilt had slowly begun to consume her. Her life had gone to hell. Her best friend didn't like her. She'd almost fucked a married man. She'd confirmed that her mother hated her. And she'd ruined the closest thing she'd gotten to bridging whatever relationship she'd had with Bruce. The older man looked down at her with a small frown. He felt pity for her, looking at her near desperate gaze. "I just..." She trailed off with a frown. "Sometimes I... Sometimes I say things before I can think about them and I just... I need to apologize."
"Miss Dumont," Alfred offered her a polite smile, "it's not that I don't want to let you in. He's simply not here."
"You and I both know that's a lie, Al." Her arms crossed over her chest. It had to be a lie. Bruce never left the house when the sun had risen. Hell, she'd more likely put her money on him sleeping. Did he even sleep? Was he like her, kept awake by odd dreams that left him in a cold sweat? She wondered if he had slept well that night in her room. God knows she hadn't. Her neck still ached from sleeping up against the side of her bed.
After a fleeting moment, the phone next to the door began to ring. Alfred sighed quietly as he picked it up. He hummed in agreement between pauses. "Yes, sir." He spoke before hanging the phone up. "Follow me, Miss Dumont."
Her eyebrows furrowed, glancing between the man and the phone. "Can he... Can he hear us?" The man in front of her remained silent as he led her into the house. A strange sense of deja vu passed over her as they walked past the kitchen and dining room. Her frown deepened as she followed him deeper into the house. Faint memories of her childhood haunted her like a ghost that couldn't let go. It clung to her and dug its nails into her skin, leaving invisible scars that she craved to get rid of. Biting her bottom lip, she followed him through a hallway devoid of any decoration. Her eyes slightly widened as they neared a gate. Alfred punched in a code, stepping to the side as the gate slid open.
"Don't let him stare at those computers too long, yeah? He's gonna ruin his eyesight." She offered Alfred a small smile and a nod. His parental worry filled her heart with warmth. It's what she liked to imagine a parent should be like. Always a little overbearing, shaking their head lovingly at their teenager's protests. Stepping into the elevator, she watched the doors slide shut and take her down underground. This had to be his workstation. Lair? Was that what it was called?
She felt her heart dropping further and further down with the elevator. It was eerily silent, save for the creaking of the mechanisms. She thought about the month previous, their lunch at the diner. A small smile absently grew on her lips. The feeling of actually being listened to for once in her life. All of the minimal progress they'd made thrown out the window because of her outburst. He hadn't deserved it. She'd been slightly tipsy and just... so angry. Hearing Alfred talk about Bruce with such deep paternal love made her jealous. It made her bitter. And she lashed out like a frightened, cornered animal. Her face began to heat up with embarrassment.
