Caroline's panties, Belafonte's honor / Scrunchie

He’d never even mustered the nerve to talk to her and now here he was face-to-face with her underwear.
If it wasn’t for the UPS guy he wouldn’t even know her name. Caroline Belafonte of Apt. 4B. The beautiful Caroline Belafonte with the subtle freckles and the long rusty hair and the emerald green eyes. The Caroline Belafonte who got allot of packages from Anthropology.
For two years she had lived right across the hall and now she was gone. She had moved and he’d likely never see her again.
He stood outside the building among the remains of her apartment that didn’t make the trip; a floor lamp, an air conditioner, various dishes, a pair of boots, and a trash bag of clothes whose contents had been dumped onto the sidewalk and examined and picked through by numerous passerbys.
There at his feet was a pile of Caroline’s bras and panties.
He felt sorry for her - that in a way she was in the process of being violated by the entire neighborhood and she didn’t even know it. He wanted to gather up her unmentionables and take them back inside but feared an awkward encounter with one of the other tenants if they were to see him with an armful of used women’s underpants.
More than anything he felt shafted. Two years worth of fantasies were now on public display for the random couple walking their dog to stop and snicker at, for the horny teenage boy to ogle over. In as much as Caroline Belafonte had first dibs on her bras and panties he had second. His infatuation had earned him that much hadn't it?
He walked away.
He then decided that if the panties were still there when he got back from work he'd keep them - out of respect for Caroline of course.