Chapter Text
Annie,
You told me long, romantic letters are laborious for you to read. I’ll say this instead:
The rain poured down today and with it came a great chill. Floods ravaged the city streets and debris swept through every open crevice in the town, destroying so many homes. Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, the next day, the rain faded and in its place came a hail storm. Whatever wasn’t destroyed by the rush of debris and water had orange-sized hail drill into the remains. I must be in hell, because on the third day, a snowstorm came! It’s chilled me to the bone and I can hardly leave to work. No hot drink can warm me up. I struggle to get out of the bedsheets to greet further cold. I’m alright but it’s insane, isn’t it? All this within the span of three days.
Well the truth is, I‘m lying. I’m not alright. The flood and chill is how rapidly I felt cold and empty upon leaving you. The home damage is the obliteration of me each moment I don’t hear your voice. The snow is the constant frost plaguing my insides when your fire isn’t around to melt it away.
Two cities away isn’t the distance that I feel between us, but a million miles. You’ll laugh at how exaggerated these comparisons are, but the joke would be on you then, as listening to you laugh would bring me no greater joy.
I’ll be home soon. Trust me.
Yours always,
Armin
Armin,
My wrist is itching to complain of how calculated your words were to make me read another long letter, especially when our time apart would be short. But I’ll wait. I’m not one for words—that’s your gift. I’ll show you how I feel when you come home and help stop our home from being so quiet and lonely.
Just so you know, I wouldn’t laugh. I’d look for where you are so I can find you and help make it all go away. But I understand why we can’t right now.
I trust you.
Love,
Annie