There's something about the sudden, precise stiffness in Vanitas's shoulders- the way his entire body seems to respond to the question that reminds him, powerfully, of Selina. Selina who so often wanted to know the score, to have the calculations measured out of how much she owes him and how much he owes her. Who said she never wanted to be his girlfriend, who had been hurt time and again simply because Bruce cared for her. Who knew how to be alone and preferred it, even if that wasn't the same as wanting to be alone.

He misses her.
In the space where Vanitas doesn't answer right away- where he looks into himself and finds something that Bruce is afraid, suspects, is bottomless- he allows himself to feel it. Selina would not uncomplicate things. She would do it her own way and he would compromise in places where he shouldn't. But it doesn't stop the wanting.

She might know the right thing to say to Vanitas, at any rate.

The boy's gaze slides away and it seems that the moment they do there's a palpable change within the kitchen. Bruce is no stranger to darkness. He'd been afraid of it for a very long time, but the fear didn't make it any less a part of him. The shadows that move around Vanitas now are different. They could almost be sentient. Bruce sets the plate down in front of him, just loud enough to draw attention, a little thud against the wood. Followed by a fork.

"I can see why you'd choose to drink so much. You have a very big scale to balance."