Her hand tracked across the thick parchment, ink flowing smoothly under her guidance. Her hand and thoughts moved together in a synchronised dance, penning a letter, the likes of which she'd done dozens of times before. Weeks had gone by, following the same routine. This letter was no different, her fingers deftly folding the note in thirds, placing it in an envelope to match and sealing it with a kiss, a faint mark from her lipstick left behind.
He was hunched over as he sat at the dimly lit desk. His wrist never stopped moving as he scrawled out a letter. Writing these was all he knew, and the only thing that kept him sane at times. Pausing in his note, he darted his steel grey eyes up from the parchment to land on another sheet, smooth black ink filling the page. It sat atop a pile of almost identical pages, only the dates changing on each. Flexing his fingers to work out a cramp, a small smile graced his features as he resumed his notation, the fading mark of red lipstick like a beacon in the stack of letters.
Her face was lit up with joy as she wrote him, filling the scroll with anecdotes and stories of her days. Leaning back after a while, she tied back her bushy brown hair, pulling it back away from her face. She took in the space around her desk while thinking, a world map spread across the wall, pins placed along each area of the globe that he landed. His letters matched the pins, telling their global story. Smiling brightly, she finished up her letter, signing off with her love in way of a cherry red kiss.
He leaned forwards in the tight confines of the airplane seat, the belt cutting painfully into his hips and making an already uncomfortable trip worse. He wrote against the tray table, silently cursing the means of travel he was forced to use. A wad of her letters lay next to his wrist, taking up the limited space available. He had a photograph stuck against the small screen, preferring to watch her rather than any form of muggle entertainment. He ignored the patronising smiles of the flight attendants and passengers each time they glimpsed his set up, not caring for them in the slightest. He signed off the same way he always did, with a simple yet begging phrase.
Her hands shook slightly as she folded his latest letter in half, placing it securely in the box along with the rest. Reaching forwards, she pulled a roll of parchment closer to herself, picking up her note near the end and sealing with her trademark kiss after a moment's hesitation. Months had been and gone, weeks even since she first started the letter before her. The further he got from her, the longer they took to correspond. The idealistic view that it would get easier and that their love would hold them strong had faded over time, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
He kept his hand as steady as he could, bumps and tears appearing every so often on the page as the quill went through the parchment, his knees a poor imitation of a table. The street was noisy, cars and pedestrians creating a chaotic blend even whilst he escaped to their letters. His frustration at the unfamiliar place and the distance between them seeped into everything he touched.
Her eyes flashed with anger as her hand moved at a furious pace ink splattering from her sloppy quill work, words angrily pouring onto the page. She wanted to hurt him like he had hurt her. She wanted him to feel her pain, even from afar. She knew no one else understood them, or how they worked. She knew no one understood just how hard it could get sometimes. Folding the page thrice, she shoved it in an envelope and marked it for post, stark white and inky black, not even a hint of colour in the pages.
He burned with rage as he took in her words for the hundredth time. Gripping the quill firmly in his palm, he relaxed only after a crack echoed through the tiny flat. Tipping his hand, he dropped the quill. Cursing as the movement tipped the open bottle of ink, he quickly caught it before losing the entire bottle. Shoving the letter into an envelope, he set it for immediate delivery. Only the inky smudge of his fingerprint blemished the otherwise blank page.
Her fingers were clenched tightly around the locket she wore, the cold metal pressing into her palm. Her other hand was busy, nails scratching against a plain piece of parchment. A smudged mark, left by his finger was visible in the bottom corner, the only sign that the parchment had even passed his hand. Tugging at the locket, she choked back a sob as his lack of words stung her, a solitary tear rolling down her cheek. Adjusting her grip, she felt the locket pop open. She dropped his letter in response, the page flitting to the floor carelessly, her mind too busy focussing on the image now revealed in her palm.
He checked the small post box he had rented. His heart skipped a beat as he spied a creased envelope towards the back. He had gone months with no word from her, too long in this place. Reaching out, he snagged the envelope and withdrew it, ripping eagerly into the thin parchment to the treasure hidden inside. His heart sunk as he flipped the page and found only advertising. The silence from her was louder than anything in this town, that much he knew. A sigh passed through his lips as he closed the box for the last time, handing the key back over before setting off to his next destination, no forwarding address left behind.
Her fingers carefully held a glass, white wine filling it to the brim. Bringing the glass to her mouth, her lips left a red lipstick stain. Placing the glass down after a moment, she reached into the shoebox waiting on the coffee table in front of herself. Withdrawing a page at random, she leaned back into the cushions of the couch. The page was creased with dozens of fold lines, evidence of repeated rereading. Sipping her wine slowly, she read over his words with a heavy heart. Hundreds of letters waited for her, the first dating back to well over a year, the last one near six months old.
He leaned back against the wall of the warehouse, his platinum blonde hair shining under the dim light of nearby streetlamps. Reaching into the back pocket, he fished a small piece of parchment out of his ripped and torn jeans. Unfolding it, a photograph fell out of the old letter. Catching it between his fingers, he smiled softly, remembering back to the day it was taken. The laughter in her dark brown eyes never faded as they moved together in the image, seeing himself ducking in for a mirth filled kiss from so long ago.
Her hand slipped as she poured herself a drink, the sharp knock of the door startling her. Placing the bottle back into the refrigerator, she carried the wine glass through the apartment on her way to the front door, the knocking incessant. Keeping the glass steady in one hand, she shook her wrist to move the sleeve of her baggy hoody down her arm. She hadn't expected any visitors, choosing to spend her day wrapped up in a sweatshirt stolen from him years ago, his letters spread out on the table once more, each signed off with the same line, begging her to wait for him to come home. Flipping the deadbolt on her front door, she pulled it inwards.
His fist was still up, ready to knock again when she finally opened the door. He vaguely noticed his missing jumper shrouding her body as he smiled ruefully at her. His heart pounded in his chest as he finally saw her once more, the photo kept safe in his back pocket no longer doing her beauty justice.
The glass shattered on the floorboards as their eyes met for the first time in years, grey and chocolate locking. Swaying slightly, she stepped backwards enough to grab the small table in the entrance for support. Her other hand moved up to grasp at her locket, the clasp opening enough to reveal the photograph of the two of them, hidden inside. He matched her steps, making his way into the apartment slowly, feeling himself getting lost within her eyes. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his copy of the photograph, tossing it onto the table behind her.
The open locket and shattered glass were soon forgotten as she pushed herself forwards, her arms wrapping around his torso with a sense of familiarity, pressing herself into his chest and losing herself in the steady beating of his heart. Holding her close, he pressed his face against the top of her head, relishing in the feel of her body against his after so long, embracing the scent of her shampoo as she overwhelmed his senses.
"You're here"
"I missed you so much"
"Loving you can hurt sometimes"
"It's the only thing that I know"