Ok, not to sound whiny, but this didn't tirn out as good as I expected. I think I'll do another alternate ending, but it might go A LOT against the books. Oh, well.
Letters. His desk was full of letters, too many to count. He had written her a letter almost every day for the past five years. All of them remained in his desk, unsent, unopened, unread. More than 1,800 letters—long letters, short letters. Some of them said nothing, there was just bleeding ink, smudged by tears. He had never sent any of them—what good would that have done? He thought pessimistically, never admitting that he, Nealan of Queenscove, the most painfully honest, outgoing, bold, and articulate member of their year-mates, was afraid to speak his mind.
He felt like a fake. He and Kel told each other everything—she had never lied to him, never kept a secret. But he violated that. How could he not? It was the lesser of two evils. She could never know. That would ruin their relationship more surely than this little lie could.
But he couldn't hide this forever. He couldn't bear to lie to her for much longer. What he felt for her—it was stronger than anything he had ever experienced.
He had to do something—he felt his heart was ready to burst. I have to know. I have to know right now, whether she loves me or not. Maybe-maybe if she doesn't, then maybe I can, I don't know, stop loving her, and get on with my life. Stop loving Kel? He couldn't imagine such a thought. His love for her came so easily from their friendship- being friends with her, but not loving her would be like the sky without stars, like the moon without the sun. There was no other way. This was real. This felt so right.
So, for the last time, looking sadly at his ink-stained fingers, he picked up his quill, set it to the parchment, and wrote the words that he had written so often, his soul aching with every stroke. Either way, this would be the last letter he wrote.
Kel-
I don't know how to say this, but- I love you. I'm sorry.
Neal
Quietly, he tiptoed through the halls to her room, his Gift the only light in the midnight darkness. With one last sigh, he held the letter to his chest, then slipped it underneath her doorframe. This is it, he thought. Things can never go back to the way they were. There was no way to get the letter back.
With a final sigh, he waited one last moment, then fled around the corner.
Turning into his hall, he nearly screamed as he crashed into someone. From the ground, he saw it was Kel. Oh, Gods no. Why me? He thought.
"Umm, Hi, Kel? What are you doing here?" Did I just sound like a moron or what?
"I—I couldn't sleep, so I er-I took a walk. I'm just heading back now. What are you doing here?"
"Umm, the same…I couldn't sleep. Well, goodnight, Kel." He got up and began to walk back towards his room.
"Yeah. Goodnight Neal."
It took all of the self-control that he possessed to keep him from running all the way back to his room. As it was, his control only lasted until he turned the final corner, our of Kel's view.
Slamming the door behind him, he almost tripped as his foot slid on something lying on his rug. He crumpled it up, thinking that it was just another one of his letters, but something made him unfold it, and open the wrinkled envelope. This was definitely NOT one of his letters. On the parchment before him, in large bold letters, read:
Neal
There is something that I have to tell you. I love you.
Kel
He read the words again, and laughed, relief making him hysterical. What were the odds?
As he and Kel both walked back out into the hallways in disbelief, he laughed as he though, well, I was right. Things are never going to be the same again.
