All the things you brought, but you never took. She still has your lighter, and she still has your book.

The smell of her perfume stuck to your pillow like a dry and worthless monument to your love.

She knows where to find you, and you know you know where to look.

There was that same knock on your door; soft and counted. How could you forget it?

Piper was in your doorway, holding a shoe box of most of the things that you left when you two broke up. At least there's still proof of your existence...

"Sorry to interrupt, but I'd figure you'd want your stuff." Piper shrugged, making a sorry attempt at being nonchalant about this whole thing.