Return of the letter.
A'son gets Milani's letter with his mail. He returns it.
Day 7, month 7, turn 19 of Interval 10
The letter arrived at A’son’s weyr some weeks after Iovniath’s flight. It came along with a few others, one from his sister at Telgar and another from his brother apprenticing with the Smith craft. He read those two. The other one he looked at for a long time. He recognized the all too familiar handing writing; he knew who it was from.
He dragged his hand wearily across his face and stared down at the envelope. He took his finger and broke the seal, pulled it out. A’son could swear that he could smell her scent just from the paper. The memories flashed before his eyes. The feel of her skin, the way the light had caught in her hair, her smile and laugh. How she moved, the way she brushed against him. That entire night relived itself for him. With a shaking hand he pushed the letter back in.
He’d felt better these past few days, started to come up out of whatever abyss had been pulling on him. There just wasn’t any way he could look at this now, to see what she had to say. What explanation could she even have for that morning? It probably was just to tell him she was sorry she’d given him the wrong impression, that he’d just been a pity fuck. That she’d just wanted to take care of him one last time. What was there to say? Nothing.
A’son sighed and pulled open one of the drawers on his desk, removing a fresh envelope. He folded Milani’s over and fit it into the new one. He took a piece from his stationary and started to write.
Milani,
I didn’t read this. There isn’t anything you can say that changes anything. I understand what happened. I know what I heard. What you did. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to explain anything. It’d be better for both of us. I love you, but it’s over now. There’s nothing left to fix.
Yours still,
A’son
He slipped his piece in next to hers, sealed and addressed it. He’d send it off tomorrow.
Day 7, month 7, turn 19 of Interval 10
The letter arrived at A’son’s weyr some weeks after Iovniath’s flight. It came along with a few others, one from his sister at Telgar and another from his brother apprenticing with the Smith craft. He read those two. The other one he looked at for a long time. He recognized the all too familiar handing writing; he knew who it was from.
He dragged his hand wearily across his face and stared down at the envelope. He took his finger and broke the seal, pulled it out. A’son could swear that he could smell her scent just from the paper. The memories flashed before his eyes. The feel of her skin, the way the light had caught in her hair, her smile and laugh. How she moved, the way she brushed against him. That entire night relived itself for him. With a shaking hand he pushed the letter back in.
He’d felt better these past few days, started to come up out of whatever abyss had been pulling on him. There just wasn’t any way he could look at this now, to see what she had to say. What explanation could she even have for that morning? It probably was just to tell him she was sorry she’d given him the wrong impression, that he’d just been a pity fuck. That she’d just wanted to take care of him one last time. What was there to say? Nothing.
A’son sighed and pulled open one of the drawers on his desk, removing a fresh envelope. He folded Milani’s over and fit it into the new one. He took a piece from his stationary and started to write.
Milani,
I didn’t read this. There isn’t anything you can say that changes anything. I understand what happened. I know what I heard. What you did. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to explain anything. It’d be better for both of us. I love you, but it’s over now. There’s nothing left to fix.
Yours still,
A’son
He slipped his piece in next to hers, sealed and addressed it. He’d send it off tomorrow.