He was quiet, pondering in a clouded silence as he motionlessly remained wreathed in blankets from the bed on which he laid. The door had been left open, a gentle light beaming enticingly through the gap to cast eerie shadows along the walls. He could leave. He could be free from this place, his prison. But he didn't. He didn't know why, however. Why he didn't just get up and walk away…
Maybe his friends missed him. Maybe his brother wanted him to come back. Maybe they were all looking for him right now, calling out his name, asking around for any sight of a skeleton monster. Even after the three months he'd been gone, maybe…they were still searching…? He almost snorted, but he was too numb to feel anything now. Maybe, maybe, maybe…
Maybe the blankets were too warm to leave behind. Maybe the bed was too comfortable to get away from. Or maybe he would miss the feel of her against him. Maybe he would miss the softness of her fur, the gentleness of her touch, the solace she brought to him through the curves of her body. Or maybe it was the fleeting glimpses of the warmth in her eyes, before she hastily hid it behind the icy lock of her broken heart. Maybe it was the small hope that one day, she would learn to love him, like he had learned to love her.
Maybe it was all just wishful thinking.
And maybe he will finally realize that nobody will ever learn to love him.