[It didn't matter to him? She looked up, a glance out of the corner of her eye, and almost smiled. It was little more than a deepening of the shadow at the corner of her mouth, filled with the wry sort of bitter humor that only sometimes made itself known on her lips.] It doesn't matter yet. ['Yet' held a gentle sort of weight to it, like she knew that it was only a matter of time. Almost like she was humoring him in letting him think that the court of public opinion didn't actually matter. And then that slip of attitude was gone again, disappeared to be hidden within the sort of woman that let herself be led with so few questions as to where.
She was lost somewhere in her thoughts as he turned the key to call the elevator, still unaware of where in the towers they were headed. She waited silently, and then responded to the weight of his hand with a step forward that carried her onto the elevator. She turned to face the doors, trying to ignore how the small car itself told of the fine hand of an expensive decorator. She took one breath as the doors started to close, but it caught in her throat as the polished interiors of them gave her her reflection. She knew it was her, and she never really liked her reflection on a good day, but it was obviously not a good day. She stared for a long moment, something hot and hard climbing into the back of her throat, before she looked down sharply and refused to lift her gaze higher than the reflection of her knees.
She waited as the elevator climbed. And climbed. And climbed. She finally frowned to herself and looked over at Bruce. Things were finally fitting together - the climb, the key. Her next words held a touch of realization and worry.] Where are we going?