Damian Wayne stood in the bedroom of Wayne Manor, staring at the newly opened express box on the table, inside which lay a dazzling purple dress.

Purple, so bright that it looked like it was directly pulled off the shelf of a cheap masquerade party, with some inexplicable lace on the cuffs, and the size was obviously one size smaller, which would probably make him breathless if he put it on.

He frowned, but your name involuntarily emerged in his mind - the name that he tried to bury deep in his memory, but always popped up in the middle of the night.

He picked up the dress, rubbing the fabric against his fingertips, so rough that he wondered if it was a prank.

His first reaction was to throw it away, like throwing away the days in the past that were ignited and extinguished by you. But he stopped, his fingers clenched the purple fabric, and his chest felt an inexplicable pain.

You sent it. Why?

After breaking up, you didn't even say a word, like two lines that would never intersect again. He thought you had forgotten his existence long ago, just like he pretended to forget you.

"Apologize?" He whispered to himself, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, but more of a test. He paced the room, his eyes occasionally glancing at the dress, analyzing quickly in his mind.

Maybe you want to reconcile, or maybe this is your clumsy way of showing your affection. He knew you were never good at expressing yourself, and when you were together in the past, you always used this strange way to convey your feelings - such as giving him a cheap dagger that he couldn't use at all, or a crooked sketch. He hated these things, but he couldn't bear to throw them away.

Damian gritted his teeth and stared at himself in the mirror.

He picked up the dress and shook it open, the purple color looked more dazzling under the light. He told himself that this was stupid, and wearing it was even stupider. But he still took off his training clothes and put on the tight dress.

His shoulders were so tight that they hurt, and his sleeves were so short that his wrists were exposed. He looked like a funny stage actor. But he stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection, and a smile unconsciously appeared at the corner of his mouth.

He imagined your expression when you saw him like this - maybe you would laugh, maybe you would be stunned, and then look at him with the eyes that he was very familiar with, with a little teasing and a little tenderness.

His heart beat faster, and he was expecting something like a fool. He even began to imagine you appearing at the door of the manor, with the smile that he once loved to the bone, saying "I'm sorry, can we start over?"

He didn't know that this dress was not for him at all. You just accidentally wrote the wrong address, and the gift for your new boyfriend was sent to him by mistake.