Dear Edward,
You caught me in a rather unexpected promise today. Who'd have thought my frugal nature would be used against me? Not that I mind—at least in this instance.
I gather you learned a lot from your talk with the Lieutenant. You're holding me hostage for…well, forever, it sounds like. Leave it to you, Ed, to use 520 cens to ensure I succeed and thrive!
Though it may sound a bit like I'm complaining, in fact nothing could be further from the truth. While I knew I had your support, what you said today made it feel much more personal. Perhaps I'm reading into things. It is altogether too easy to do so, when our conversations are as veiled as they are.
Sometimes I wish I could speak to you with as much freedom as I "write" you. I use quotations, as I don't know if it counts as writing to you if I never send these letters. I've a whole stack, now, all sitting in my desk. In all likelihood, this one will join them soon.
Truly, I don't know why it feels so cathartic to address you as I write. I would accomplish just as much (or little) by keeping a journal, but that thought doesn't appeal to me. Even if you'll never lay eyes on these words, I write them thinking of you, and for some reason that means…quite a lot to me.
Oh, Edward. If you weren't my subordinate, could I speak to you so candidly? What is it about you that inspires me to let my thoughts out, and yet at the same time makes it so hard to do so in any meaningful way?
You're an enigma, Edward Elric. I don't understand what you've done to me, but…well, whatever it is, I find I can be nothing but glad.
Yours,
Roy