The crunching sounds echoed distinctly throughout the ward.
Bruce opened the door, closed it gently, and stood still, drawn by the sound of chewing. His gaze fell on the hospital bed, where Diana sat cross-legged in a loose hospital gown, her cheeks puffed out like a hamster munching on food, her mouth full of snacks.
She clearly hadn't expected anyone to come in and froze for a moment, her eyes darting between the doorway and the cookie in her hand, as if worried that FBI agents might burst in and confiscate her snack.
Once she confirmed it was Bruce, she visibly relaxed and continued chewing, her lips curving into a relaxed smile.
Bruce walked over without disturbing her, poured a cup of warm water from the bedside table, and handed it to her.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, taking the cup a
