Note: This story is co-written by PhunkyBrewster and HelenVanPattersonPatton. Neither writer owns any of the characters associated with The Mindy Project. The writers would also like to express their extreme gratitude for the amazing support they have received for this story thus far!

(Written on a coffee-ring stained, yellow legal pad at Danny's kitchen table. 1:15 am, Nov 13, 2013)

Mindy,

You're asleep a few feet away, just on the other side of that door, and it would be so simple to say these words to your face. I want to. I wasn't sure what I was going to say when you made your feelings clear earlier, but I do now. I wish I had the courage to wake you up and say them.

I wish I had the courage to just kiss you.

Is it dumb writing this to you instead? For some reason I don't believe you'll think it is. At this point we've gotten pretty good at writing what we really think to each other.

I was surprised when you said what you did about your crush. Why not just tell me? But I get it now. You thought it would be better to ease into it. You're probably right. I can already think of a million reasons why this is a bad idea.

What you may not have anticipated is that it is something I've thought about before. We never talked about it, but you know I almost kissed you the night you cut your hair. The night you changed your mind that last time and decided to go to Haiti.

It's not like I've thought about it all that much or anything, but it is pointless to deny that there's something between us. Clearly you feel it, too.

You used my toothbrush. The bristles were wet when I went to use it and I didn't even mind it that much. That has to mean something, doesn't it?

I don't know where we go from here. There's more on the line than just feelings, and I don't want to mess things up. We have to try though, right? We'll regret it if we don't at least try. I'll regret it.

So I'm going to let you sleep. And tomorrow everything will change. Tomorrow I may even give you this letter.

Yours,

Danny

(Written on forgotten personalized stationary in Mindy's bed. 12:47 a.m. Dec 14, 2013)

Danny,

I'm not sure what happened, but something went terribly wrong with the man trap. I know you don't like me to bug you with this kind of stuff, but you're the one I usually come to when I need perspective...when I need guidance. And I can't think of a time when I've needed more guidance than now.

Cliff ended up meeting me outside. He even smuggled me a cookie. Then, with the falling snow and the looping carols in the background, he kissed me. It happened exactly as I planned. And I can tell you about every minute detail, every flash of light, every single honk of the cab horns below or the smell that was a strange mix of garbage and holly.

I can tell you with confidence that there were three snowflakes that clung to Cliff's eyelashes. I can tell you about a very indecisive pigeon that flew away, came back for six seconds, and flew away again only to come back once more. I can even recall a very loud conversation regarding the declining quality of Marco's Bakery that was taking place in the building across from ours. Danny, I can tell you everything you need to know, and that's the problem. The perfect kiss isn't in the all of the little details that surround it; it's in the absence of time and sense and shapes and colors. The perfection is in the way everything blurs. And you probably think I gathered that notion from an Anne Hathaway movie, but I didn't. I gathered it from experience. I gathered it from you.

Do you remember the night in the doctor's lounge, the night I told you I was leaving for Haiti? Danny, you don't ever have to admit it, but I just know that you were going to kiss me. And even though I was with Casey, a part of me screamed on the inside for you to kiss me so loudly that, beyond all reason, I thought that you may have heard it and were responding to it. And when you neared, touching my face and looking at me with an openness I've never seen from you, everything swirled and blurred. There was a strange crackling in my ears and all I could smell and taste was your sandalwood cologne. Your lips hadn't even touched mine yet and I already felt like I was drowning in something that I couldn't describe. The only life preserver I could grasp within my reach was the tiny shred of rationale that led me to panic and blurt that I had reconciled with Casey. To this day, I can't help but wish that I had just let myself sink, haircut and all.

And I feel like the night I spent at your place was such a missed opportunity. I know my big mouth made it difficult once again, but I also know that the moment you held me in front of Amy felt like something so much bigger than a rouse...and crush be damned, if he wanted to, then Danny Castellano would have seized that moment to go after what he wanted because Danny Castellano is a real man, right? He's the type of guy who would chase an intruder out of his apartment, naked and wielding a baseball bat, or tell a woman she's beautiful during her grossest moment, or simply kiss a girl he liked. He would have kissed me tonight.

I'd be foolish to give up a sure thing with someone like Cliff just because of a very frustrating crush on my friend, right? By all logic, we would crash and burn almost instantly. Between your stubbornness and my uncanny ability to obliterate every relationship I find myself in, it would be crazy to even consider it. I'd be stupid to.

I'd be an idiot to give you this letter, so I'm probably not going to.

Mindy