He'd had the words ready, to tell him that he could have those things, the exact things he wanted to murmur into Bruce's ear as his nails sliced into Bruce's skin. He'd been ready to just... let go. Give Bruce what he wanted. Whatever it is he wanted. Finally be and do and give the other man what he needed.

And then Bruce jerked away. Let go of his hand. And the spell was broken. The moment was gone. Everything that had started to feel under control, held in his hand, slipped away.

And he was so angry, so goddamn angry, that he was shaking.

Fine. Fine. Fine. He wasn't a man anymore. He was just a broken thing to be placated, to be fixed, to be coddled and sated so he didn't destroy anything. Kill anyone. Everything he'd always feared he'd be, now he was. Useless. Useless and destructive. Literally better dead than alive. Less trouble.

His fists clenched tight, tight enough that his own nails bit into his skin. His own blood dripped down between his fingers, sluggish and unaccustomed to running outside of his body.

"I'll be... in my room. No more farce for the day."

And he was gone.