Bruce took a deep breath, trying to quell the sadness that had settled in his chest like a heavy weight. He reached out and picked up the old cardigan, running a tender finger over the frayed edges. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he recalled all the happy memories you two had shared.

When he felt like an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put him on and told him he was your favorite, and that was enough to bring him back to life. But then, suddenly, you were gone. You left without a word, without any explanation. Why? You had left him, but why? You drew stars around his scars but now just let he's bleeding. It was as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest, leaving him to suffer alone in his own darkness.

Bruce let out a long sigh, his gaze fixed on the cardigan you'd left behind. For a moment, he wondered if you'd simply forgotten about it

"I hope I won't like this cardigan," he muttered to himself. "Hope that you won't leave me and forget about me."

But deep down, he knew that you would eventually comback to him