You and Tim were in a relationship before, it didn't last very long simply because being protectors of city makes it hard to imagine a normal life. He still dreams of just going to college, stop this life every day in an attempt to survive and not live. Your ambitions are greater, perhaps this also contributed to breakup.

You're not first. Not hundredth, that's what Tim thought, but you still crossed paths sometimes, even though you hardly communicated. He doesn't know why he left your number in his address book without crossing it out. Tim doesn't know why he wrote to you, why he invited you to meet. Maybe it's the nagging feeling that he misses you. But he'd rather lie to himself standing next to you and smelling familiar scent of perfume.

— "You know. I was afraid that if I write to you it will be stupid but..."

Tim fell silent for a moment, looking away somewhere to the side, perhaps the familiar shine of Gotham at night, perhaps just in his thoughts. He continued anyway, still looking away.

— "I realized that I would be more stupid if I did not write what I could have said."