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It never leaves him, the weight. It sits just below his throat and he feels as though he can't swallow, can't breathe, can't think---
Guilt and unsurety choke him, and he tries to silence them by straightening his tie and tugging the knot to an acceptable angle.
He scans the room, a momentary distraction from his looping thoughts. It's an interstate event, one that he doesn't care for at all– except Alfred has reminded him, in his roundabout way, that this was the trade off he promised after missing the last hundred or so engagements. Bruce Wayne is a myth, but he mustn't fade into obscurity.
He pretends to drink his whisky as he catalogues how he can maneuver through the crowd and straight out of the large doors. In his peripheral vision, he spots Clark Kent, chatting with a group, disarming them with his dimpled smile and easy charm.
Bruce exhales, some semblance of calm settling over all other thoughts, dulling them to a muted buzz.
They don't interact much in these public spaces. The Daily Planet has a different person assigned to cover these events, Clark has explained, and he's usually only brought for support. In theory, it means there's no real reason for Bruce Wayne to be friendly with him, not when he's elusive with Gotham's own set of reporters.
Regardless, he's decided his path and even though it will delay his exit by a minute or so, he strides towards their direction. He doesn't linger for long, only pauses brief enough to greet one of the ladies in their circle. This lets him discreetly press a finger along the curve of Clark's spine. His shoulders relax.
Clark tilts his head, "Mr. Wayne, a pleasant surprise to see you here" and doesn't say more. Bruce inclines his head, returns the greeting, and continues down his path.
It takes him longer to get out. There is always another hand to shake, another conversation to decipher, another deal to deflect. He feels bile building up as he reads in between the false words that fall through their file grins. He is cordial, but dismissive. Aloof and cutting when pressed. He is close to his exit, but he is also close to losing his thin thread of patience.
"Mr. Wayne." He hears Clark behind him. His voice low; a comfort, a steadying anchor. "I was hoping to get a few words for the Daily Planet."
Bruce nods, wordlessly grateful. He makes one last glancing sweep around the room. Everyone is busy mingling, and he has already gathered what information he can. He makes his excuses and lets Clark lead him out into the hall and towards the elevator. Once they're inside and the doors have closed, Clark exhales through his mouth and sheds off his jacket.
"Wow, it was getting stuffy in there, huh?" he says and nudges his foot against Bruce's. Bruce raises his face and looks straight into Clark's gentle smile. "You okay now?"
"I thought we were keeping up with appearances," Bruce replies. But he tucks his hand in his pockets and touches his elbow against Clark's.
"You looked like you needed to breathe and I was more worried about your well being than--" Clark scrunches his nose. "--appearances."
The elevator dings and they walk out into the biting cold of Gotham's wind. A light drizzle kisses the ground. Somewhere, a car horn blares and the train grinds on the tracks. Bruce considers these sounds and quickly discards them. The sky is cloudy; no signal. Gotham will do its best to rest tonight.
This does nothing to soothe the anxiety that sits at the shoreline of Bruce's mind. There is always something, if not tonight, then later or tomorrow.
Beside him, Clark clears his throat.
"Hey," he says. His voice is a gentle invitation. "My hotel is just a block from here. Do you want to...?" he trails off and gives Bruce a look. It says everything else Clark wants to say, but Bruce is not yet a master of these silent words, doesn't really speak this kind of language.
Still, he endeavors to learn. He turns his body to Clark, taking a step and bringing him closer, seeking the warmth Clark radiates. "Lead the way Mr. Kent," he says quietly and lets Clark press a finger against his spine as they leave.