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Language:
English
Series:
Part 3 of I learn myself in you
Stats:
Published:
2020-08-19
Completed:
2020-09-16
Words:
1,157
Chapters:
3/3
Comments:
14
Kudos:
56
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3
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514

perhaps not to be is to be without your being

Summary:

You are not here with me tonight, for the first time in weeks, and I feel the lack of you.

—

Letters between Agent Nathaniel Sewell and Detective Eva Navarro.

Chapter 1: From Nathaniel Sewell to Eva Navarro

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Eva, my dearest,

I must admit I have grown used—perhaps almost too easily—to the weight of you on my bed; to the quiet pattern of your breathing as you lie next to me, tangled with me. To the sound of your heartbeat, slowed by sleep but still unmistakably, uniquely yours, a rhythm that will stay with me no matter how many more centuries I may live.

I have grown used to it, I say: you are not here with me tonight, Eva, for the first time in weeks, and I feel the lack of you. 

I will see you soon, kiss you and hold you soon—but for now, all I can do is write these words for you, lose myself in my many thoughts of you, tell you how I wish I could be lost in you instead.

I think of you, my Eva—I think of you and the sweet, inebriating warmth that is the taste of your kisses, the taste of you on my tongue and the heat of you under me.

I think of you, and of how the world fades away at your mere, intoxicating presence; how you fill every one of my senses until there is nothing, nothing but you. Nothing but the way your heart speeds up for me as we draw closer, and the sweet fire in your eyes and the soft curve of your mouth, eager and wanting, your tempting smile a challenge you know I could never—would never—resist.

I think of the small marks dotted like constellations on your skin, across your face and down your neck, your shoulders, your chest; I have counted them and kissed them and will count and kiss them again and yet again. I think of how you laugh, soft and crystal clear, with a look in your eyes that makes my heart beat as fast as yours—how you laugh when I trace them, softly, from your face to your neck, and how that laughter turns to sighs and your eyes flutter closed and I am lost, lost again in the lines of your body, the warmth of your skin, kissing you and touching you everywhere I can reach.

I think of nothing else, now, other than the sounds pleasure draws from you—every soft sigh you breathe into my mouth; every pleading moan when you ask me for more.

I think of how you look, eyes closed, beautiful, divine, your body arching off the bed we share, lost to everything but this heat between us.

I think of our hands, joined together and anchoring you—me, us—as we fall apart.

I think of you, Eva, my darling. I always do.

I hope you think of me, too.

Yours always, yours alone,

Nate

Notes:

This would not exist without the absolutely wonderful Wayhaven writers support group on discord, and now we're writing aaall of the Unit Bravo love letters.

The title is from Sonnet 69 by Pablo Neruda because I am very bad at titles.