THE LAST TITIAN

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint scent of pastries, creating a comforting atmosphere in the small café. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting warm golden rays across the wooden table where Bruce Banner sat, his fingers nervously tracing the rim of his coffee cup. Across from him, Betty Ross stirred her drink, her eyes searching his face for answers.

"Bruce," she began, her voice soft yet steady, "it's been a long time. You look… different."

He chuckled lightly, a sound that felt foreign to him. "Different is one way to put it. More like worn out." He sighed, the weight of years spent running from his own shadow pressing down on him. "I've been trying to find a cure for the Hulk. It's exhausting."

Betty's expression shifted, concern etching deeper lines on her forehead. "You're still chasing that dream? After everything that's happened?"

"Every day," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I could find a way to control it, to make it go away. But the more I dig, the more I realize how far I've fallen. The files I needed… they were wiped clean. It's like the world is conspiring to keep me trapped in this nightmare."

She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto his. "Bruce, you don't have to do this alone. You never did. I know you think you're protecting me by keeping your distance, but I want to help."

He shook his head, a bitter smile creeping onto his lips. "Help? You don't understand, Betty. The Hulk isn't just a part of me; he's a force of nature. I can't predict when he'll come out, and I can't control the destruction he leaves behind. I can't put you in danger again."

"Danger?" she echoed, her voice rising slightly. "You think I'm afraid of danger? I've faced it with you before. I want to be here for you, Bruce. You don't have to carry this burden alone."

The tension in the air thickened, and Bruce felt the familiar pang of longing mixed with guilt. He wanted to reach across the table, to grasp her hand and pull her into his world, but the fear of what that world could unleash held him back. "You don't know what it's like to feel that rage, that power. It's intoxicating, and I can't let it consume me. I can't let it consume you."

Betty's gaze softened, and she leaned back, her fingers curling around her cup. "I know you're tired. I can see it in your eyes. But running away hasn't worked, has it? You need to confront this, Bruce. You need to face the Hulk, not just hide from him."

He looked down at his coffee, the swirling liquid reflecting the chaos within him. "I've tried. I've tried so many times. But every time I think I'm getting closer, something pulls me back. I don't know if I can do it again."

"Then let me help you," she urged, her voice steady and unwavering. "We can figure this out together. You're not just a scientist; you're a person, Bruce. You deserve to find peace."

He met her gaze, and for a moment, the walls he had built around his heart began to crack. "Peace," he murmured, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. "I don't even know what that looks like anymore."

"Maybe it starts with accepting who you are," she replied gently. "The Hulk is a part of you, but he doesn't define you. You're still Bruce Banner, the brilliant scientist, the man I fell in love with. You can't forget that."

The memories flooded back—laughter shared over late-night experiments, stolen moments in the chaos of their lives. He felt a flicker of hope, a small ember igniting in the depths of his despair. "I don't want to lose you again, Betty. I can't bear the thought."

"You won't lose me," she promised, her voice firm. "But you have to let me in. You have to trust me."

Bruce took a deep breath, the weight of her words settling over him like a warm blanket. "Okay," he said finally, his voice steadying. "I'll try. But it won't be easy."

"Nothing worth fighting for ever is," she replied, a small smile breaking through the tension. "But we'll face it together."

As they sat in the café, the world outside continued to bustle, oblivious to the storm brewing within Bruce. For the first time in years, he felt a flicker of hope—a fragile thread connecting him to the possibility of healing. And as he looked into Betty's eyes, he realized that perhaps, just perhaps, he didn't have to face his inner hell alone.