One friend. She had one up on him. Stark didn't count, he was sort friends with anyone that moved or might have been remotely interesting. And even though he had seen the essence of the Tower stabbing hard at the skyline, that didn't mean much of anything. Bruce was not a man to harbor hope.
"Well, you've got me..." It was worth a little bit, he felt. Not much, but a little. They could be outcasts together, a metahuman that had a temper problem and a very nice woman who was an honest-to-God living zombie. A brain eating zombie at that.
"There's nothing wrong with using what you've got to help people," Bruce began, not seeming creeped out in the slightest or disgusted by her in any way. It only gave more fuel to the fire of his interest in her. He spooned a few more noodles out of his bowl as if she had just told him something completely normal. He wouldn't freak out here.
Finished, Bruce set the chopsticks in to the empty bowl, wiped his mouth with a cloth and set the crumple of paper stop the sticks. Then he looked at Liv carefully, "I'll do whatever I can to try to get your life back to normal. I can't make you promises, and I won't give you false hope, but I'll do the best that I can."