On the first part, Lucy would have disagreed with him wholly, though she didn't have it in her to say as much. Punching a concrete wall could do some damage, sure — worse than she'd been fortunate enough to wind up with — and it would hurt for a while, but it was solely physical, nothing that wouldn't heal. Lucy had decided time and time again that she would be better off keeping people at a distance so it wouldn't hurt as much if they disappeared. While it was a sentiment she always wound up reneging on, the fact remained that she was attached to Bruce already, and to risk becoming more so would only make it hurt more if — when — he disappeared. It was all that acting on whatever feelings she'd suddenly found her with would accomplish, making her need him more.

Still, hearing that she hadn't just been making things up and acting on wishful thinking was enough to bring a small, unusually bashful smile to her face, like she was some dumb kid whose crush had expressed approval. (In all actuality, that may not have been too far from the truth, despite her better judgment.) "At least there's that," she said, an attempt at levity that fell fairly flat; she'd never been good at making jokes when the situation didn't call for it, though it was clear that the sentiment was one she meant fully. Better that he'd stopped and acknowledged what had almost happened than she was just getting carried away purely because her life was, yet again, such a mess. "I, um — you know you're one of my closest friends, right? That, I don't want that to change."