Re: Manor: Bruce & Selina Yes, he said. For now, he said. He was being honest, and she knew that, even after the long stretch of silence and his own realization about the morbidity of the words. She shook her head when he said she was right. Oh, no, no. "Don't do that. Don't lie and agree with me for whatever reason you just came up with in your head." She shook her head again, but she didn't argue. She didn't backpedal, and she didn't tell him that she thought he was wrong. She could've waxed poetic about life and death, and she could've explained to him all the reasons she thought this was better for the little lost bird. After all, this was a chance for Damian. Here? He'd been miserable. Wherever he was now? Maybe he wasn't.
And, no, she didn't feel secure in anything. Any security that had developed over the past months has slipped away somewhere in the middle of her weeks with the mobs, and it didn't help that their last conversation had been less than positive. So she waited, silence and her attention on the ball of fur that demanded love without any hesitation.
When he spoke, she nodded. She had no idea if he meant it, or if he just thought it was the thing he ought to say. But she was doing her best to follow Harley's advice and just let him be. Don't push. She didn't ask. She just pointed at the dog. "Can you imagine being like that? Willing to just show affection and beg for it to be returned?" Her tone said she had absolutely no idea what that was like. "Holly's like that."
She turned toward the house, no move to touch him or say anything to draw him out, not beyond the commentary. Fingertips sliding into the pockets of her jeans, she led the way with only the crunch of grass beneath her boots as accompaniment.