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004. connections
𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓, the soft, almost imperceptible smile tugging at her lips betraying her attempts to seem nonchalant. Her energy felt like it was lighting up the room, even if she was doing her best to hide it.
She made her way toward the kitchen, where Bruce was hunched over a spread of papers on the counter, lost in thought. It was silent, with the only sound filling the air being the soft thud of Ingrid’s footsteps as she settled onto a stool, her chin resting on her fist. She watched him for a moment, letting the silence fill the space. It wasn’t uncomfortable— just the kind of quiet that made sense between them.
Bruce, sensing her presence, glanced up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her closely. His gaze lingered a little longer than usual, as if he was trying to savor this rare moment of seeing Ingrid so... happy, before whatever caused it slipped away. It had been so long since he'd seen that light in her eyes.
Before she could ask about the scattered papers or make small talk, Bruce broke the silence. “You look... happy. Did something happen?” His tone was soft but curious, like he was both relieved and wary.
Ingrid shrugged, doing her best to keep things casual, though her excitement threatened to spill over. She let out a long sigh, trying to stifle her smile. “I mean… nothing crazy. Just hung out with some people.” Her voice was quiet, almost as if admitting it would break whatever magic she had experienced, but the bubbling joy was still unmistakable beneath the surface.
Bruce, now fully focused on her, set down the paper he had been reading, his eyes not leaving her face. “Some people, huh? That’s a new one,” he remarked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
Ingrid rolled her eyes, but it was playful, not annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. I met some people.” She said it like it was no big deal, as if making friends was something she did all the time. Her fingers absentmindedly traced shapes on the cold countertop, a distraction from the fluttering in her chest. “A few friends, actually,” she added, her voice soft but filled with the weight of something she hadn’t let herself hope for in a long time.
Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Friends? That’s good.” His voice was steady, but there was something more behind it, as if he understood the significance of her words in a way only he could.
Ingrid avoided his gaze, her fingers still tracing invisible patterns on the counter. She was trying to act like this wasn’t a big deal, trying to protect herself in case it didn’t last, but deep down she wanted to talk about it. She wanted to share this rare piece of joy, to let someone else in on the secret that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to look up. She sighed, giving in. “Okay, fine. It was fun, alright?” There was a mock annoyance in her voice, but the smile she had been holding back finally broke free. It was bright and full of life, and Bruce couldn’t help but mirror it. "Evelyn, Dylan, and Lucas," she said, the names rolling off her tongue as if they were already a part of her life. "They’re... different, I guess. But in a good way."
