"Bru-...ce." Tim does that slightly embarrassing thing of standing up and starting to call after Bruce as he's leaving, only to trail off and sit back down with a resigned sigh. If Bruce Wayne has decided the conversation is at an end, then it just is, and he doesn't know this Bruce - or this Bruce doesn't know him well enough to endure being chased after with anything like good humour. And that's the crux of the problem he's having here, that part of what he's used to in conversations with Bruce is a certain level of camaraderie (who would use that word and apply it to Batman, Tim) and dry, understated humour, at least outside of talking about actual crime. He had been trying to ease the conversation and make a connection that's just not there, and possibly never will be; if this Bruce doesn't know any of them, doesn't know Clark or any other heroes, then he hasn't had their influence to soften the abrasive edges of his view on superheroism and vigilantism, and... well, he's seen what can happen when Bruce has no-one around to lighten his focus. He feels like a teenager again, young and uncertain of how to approach Bruce, but growing absolutely certain that he has to, somehow.
He takes his time finishing the burrito and picking through the job listings, noting some of particular interest to look into and grateful for the thought, before checking over the rest of the apartment and snagging a jacket with a high collar. Between that and cleaning his hair, he looks much different, and it covers the stitches and bruising on his neck better than the mesh shirt, so when he leaves it shouldn't arouse any undue interest from anyone, hopefully.
He considers the availability of electronic equipment in Baedal, then the chances that Bruce would take him to a place he hadn't bugged in some fashion.
"Thanks for the job listings. I'm borrowing a jacket. If you want it back, or decide we need to talk, you know where to find me."
If he's wrong, he just talked to himself in an empty apartment, with no-one around to be embarrassed in front of. Message potentially left, he heads out, slipping into the alleyways and from there into the streets.
no subject
He takes his time finishing the burrito and picking through the job listings, noting some of particular interest to look into and grateful for the thought, before checking over the rest of the apartment and snagging a jacket with a high collar. Between that and cleaning his hair, he looks much different, and it covers the stitches and bruising on his neck better than the mesh shirt, so when he leaves it shouldn't arouse any undue interest from anyone, hopefully.
He considers the availability of electronic equipment in Baedal, then the chances that Bruce would take him to a place he hadn't bugged in some fashion.
"Thanks for the job listings. I'm borrowing a jacket. If you want it back, or decide we need to talk, you know where to find me."
If he's wrong, he just talked to himself in an empty apartment, with no-one around to be embarrassed in front of. Message potentially left, he heads out, slipping into the alleyways and from there into the streets.