[It makes him feel sad, to watch her take it off. Like she's rejecting something that's clearly meant for her, or part of herself. Ajax makes no move to reclaim the scarf, finding himself trying to claw at more of a memory than the faint image he'd just gotten from seeing it on her.]

I had a sort of flashback too, [he admits quickly,] like I was seeing it on you for the first time, and yet, it wasn't you. It couldn't of been.

[His eyes dart between both of hers, wondering if anything he just said made any sense at all.]

When I grabbed it out of the closet, I just thought it would look pretty on you, and it's just a scarf. It might be an heirloom of sorts, but no one in my family has ever really worn it. I think my father even talked about throwing it out recently...but I thought it was too nice to just get rid of, so that's how I came to having it in my possession.

[But why hasn't anyone worn it? He doesn't have an answer to that thought.]