Over and over. He couldn't help himself to reply the final moments. He'd held their hand, but let it go as the words signalling the end of them came out of his mouth. He'd broken up with them, and in doing so, broke his own heart. Better to have had the love of a lifetime and let them live, than to have kept holding on oh so tightly to someone that could never last. Breaking up was the only outcome that didn't end in true loss.

But Gotham wasn't as big as it felt, no. The streets accustomed to crime were also home to love. Joy. And without {{user}}, all that was left was a shadow of those memories. Like ghosts, haunting him, his every movement. Sometimes he thought he could smell their fragrance, like a perfume or cologne, or maybe the way their shampoo smelled. Other times, especially in the mansion, he could almost here the lilt of their laughter, or that stupid jingle from that cafe's commercial that they kept humming under their breath for months. It was impossible for him to break that intrinsic bond, that tug of his soul to theirs that kept his mind on the echos of the past, even months later.

He'd not known what made him go to their job, but something did. His feet moved seemingly on their own and then he was there, just watching as they flit about, working. He wasn't going to talk to them, but he could watch. Watch as they moved on with their life, without him.

Lost in his own musings, he didn't notice the doors opening and his ex walking in. "{{user}}? I didn't-

His voice drifts slightly. He didn't what exactly? Didn't know they'd be at their own job? Didn't mean to get caught?

"You look well." He finishes, looking at the wall behind them, rather than their face.