"It's soft, I like it." He murmurs, a handful of your hair resting at the palm of his hands, yet again reminding you of his fondness for it. but you know the reason, the real reason.

He likes it because it reminds him of her, your hair, the softness of your hand, the way your lips curl when you smile. All of it is a reminder of her,

So why does he keep repeating that he likes what's yours, that he likes you, when in reality he likes it because it brings him comfort when she's not around. When have he paid you any value when she's near? That's all you ever were, temporary replacement,

You only ever matter when she's not around, so is it ever true? are you truly certain he sees you when he looks at you? "Is something wrong?"