Prompt: I found your box of letters underneath my bed last night and because I'm a nosy motherfucker I decided to read them and it turns out they were all addressed to me and the last one was dated the day you moved out and I'm not quite sure why I thought this would be a good idea, but here I am standing on your doorstep, wondering why the fuck we're not together anymore
She had moved most of his stuff away these last few weeks, things he forgot or reminded her of him. They were stored away somewhere in the basement and Regina kept telling herself she would bring them to his new place one day, but for now they would sit and wait. Some pictures or so she kept, the memories linked to them far too precious to throw them out. They've rested in her nightstand for some time, but since they still faced her way too often Regina had decided to move them.
She finds an old shoe carton, gently sets the pictures and some jewelry pieces he's gotten her inside and moves to store them under the bed.
Regina lifts the blanked and partially scoots under it, pushing the box away as far as possible. When she moves to retreat them her hands bump against something, so she lowers her head a bit to check what's hiding there as well. What she finds is another box. Maybe she already put some photographs away,she thinks, retrieving the white carton.
There's some dust on top, but the box itself looks new and Regina can't really remember it so she takes a look inside, planning on finding old magazines or documents Robin may have forgotten at their or rather her (it still felt weird to say that) place. When she removes the lid though, she is met with what seems to be millions of letters, all in crisp white envelopes, taking in a good part of the box. Inspecting one of them a bit better, Regina finds no address or other information written on it. Going through some more she tries to find out whom the letter may concern, but all of them are blank.
She doesn't want to open them since they've been sealed, but something in her aches to know who Robin wrote these letters for, assuming these are his letters. Or are they actually letters? Regina needs to know and that's when she spots one that hasn't been sealed yet.
Her inner voices tell her to stop what she's doing, but her curiosity wins over and soon she's holding a letter in her hands. A letter definitely written by her ex-boyfriend. A letter addressed to her. She had promised herself not to read what the actual letter said, but this one's for her, maybe they all are, and Robin may haven't given it to her, but it's her name in that first line and so she starts reading.
May 11, 2013
Dear Regina,
today marks one of the best days of my life. We've finally moved in together into our new cozy apartment. Thank you so much for letting me into your life, for I couldn't be happier right now.
So far we've only completed our kitchen and bedroom, but I know we have lots of time left to fill all rooms with joy and happiness.
I love you.
Yours,
Robin
Regina almost chuckles sarcastically if it weren't for the small hint of tears in her eyes, caused by such a short letter. Didn't got so much time after all, she thinks bitterly. She fishes out another letter though, wanting to read more of his kind words. The letter she opens is dated for December 31, 2012 and Regina decides to open the others first and putting them in the right order before continuing with her reading. She doesn't pay much mind to the actual dates though while she sorts through the different pieces of paper. When she's done she lifts the oldest and starts reading. It appears to be from when they first met and Regina can't help, but smile at his description of butterflies in his stomach and roller coaster rides his head is taking when he's with her.
She picks up each letter, sometimes reading them a second or third time. They're short, but hit the nail each time. Some are about things they did together, some are about fights they had and some are about more physical things. She's already weeping when she picks up the next letter, reaching a time she would like to push back into her head as far as she can.
March 25, 2016
Dear Regina,
things turned a bit rougher between us and I'm sorry for the part I took in it as much as I'm sure you are sorry for your part. I love you with all that I have and I hope we can work through this.
Together we are stronger.
Love,
Robin
The letters turn a bit more depressing after that, describing fights and arguments. He writes about how it pains him to see her close herself off more and more, how he wishes she would talk to him, how he wants to fix this. He shares happy memory with her, tells her how he watched her the whole night the first time she stayed over at his place or how he noticed and always loved the way her nose scrunched up when she thought about something. He gives her all those happy moments, while seeming to drown in his grieve; he was grieving their lost love.
The final letter rests in her hands now, dated for July 27, 2016, the day he moved out and everything seemed to fall apart. She takes in every word, tear drops wetting the much longer letter and making a few words disappear in salty water. Her hands wipe at mascara and salty drops, before Regina is folding the precious paper and pushing it into her pocket. She's out the door in seconds, grabbing her coat and keys on the way out.
His bell rings 20 minutes later.
TBC