Work Text:
dearest rosa,
you may have noticed i haven’t exactly been myself lately. i can’t pinpoint the reason why, i must admit.
being me isn’t exactly difficult work. i suppose it’s my brain that is the problem, always overthinking. ‘take it easy’ seems like good advice at times. referring back to my first statement, i must say it simply is not in me to relax. this strange haze of myself actually is myself, i’m afraid.
it is not like i’m dysfunctional in day-to-day life. to those who don’t know me, i am another man in my late twenties of average capabilities. to those who know me, i am another man in my late twenties of excellent capabilities. i mean to say that i don’t find much difference in the way strangers treat me and the way friends treat me.
the same goes for my behavior. giving a cold stare as a gift to a friend or a random passerby. it’s not a present that most people like to receive, but it’s the only one i know how to give. in terms of the balanced scales of justice, i am a very balanced man. it is just that my scales themselves seem to be made of rust rather than bright gold.
i sometimes find my dilemmas to be quite foolish. as if i were a sturdy oak unable to properly form roots, or a beggar without his cap to collect his money in. a poor little boy, with not much but his lofty reputation going for him. the wing name itself planted me in the forest. many believe it also gave me the room to flourish, but it did not. though it would only be childish to complain about what i should be grateful for.
some consider me pedantic, others arrogant, others a simply cold person. i consider myself inexperienced, and not searching for experience. if the latter is because of incapability or ignorance, i do not know. it may sound like i’m swelling my situation into what is it not, but i think i do know why i love the orderly so much.
in my sorrows, i don’t have a chest with a steady heartbeat to grasp. so perhaps a unchanging rhythm of order in my daily life would suffice.
though, the filing cabinets and organized drawers in my brain have been destroyed, the inner workings of myself being all over the place. as i said, i am afraid this new being of chaos is my new self.
to the surprise of many, i wouldn’t have it any other way.
i had gotten so used to artificial comfort, which had started when i was just a child. i recall organizing my room or tapping my foot while humming a song when i was stressed. my parents never had the best relationship, but never the worst one either. they usually took my shutting down as the usual teenage angst. maybe it was.
so, breaking through this comfort was quite the challenge. a challenge that i had secretly wanted, but always denied.
rosa, every time i saw your face through the windows of my office, i knew i couldn’t escape from my bursting heart any longer. when your glance met mine, when i functioned to help you rather than protect myself, i knew you were the key to finding myself, and hopefully i could add a spark to your life in the process.
it dawned upon me that you are the embodiment of my dreams, and the manifestation of my weakness.
i wonder, what will we become? will my dreams fade out into a fog so thin i can’t remember the feel of the droplets on my skin? or will my weakness devour me whole, laying her sweet touch wherever i may need it?
before, i would have hoped for the first option. let these sins, these thoughts of imperfection leave my body at once. now, it pains me to think of anything but the second way. anything but you, rosa.
i used to fear becoming anything but the artem wing i was, and in a sense i still do. however, i know my nature will still remain, only these festering negative emotions in me will dispel by you. i only hope those thoughts aren’t what was building my personality for all these years.
i used to scorn myself for every little mishap that happened at work, thinking bold things like ‘i never should have become a lawyer if i can’t even do this right’. all of that doubt has gone now, because if i was never senior attorney at themis law firm, i never would have met you; and you trump my every other desire.
i found myself thinking like this a lot. thinking about you and how you’ve changed my life. but it never really came to me that what i was feeling was… love. when the thought first roamed my mind, i thought i was nowhere close to being prepared for romance, and i was thrown into a type of frenzy coming from not knowing what to do.
the more i write this, the more it sounds like a love letter. perhaps that was my intention. i may even send it one day, when and if your eyes see me in a similar fashion.
if this is a love letter, then i love you. there’s not much complication to it, in my mind.
i know you may not feel this way, now or ever. i can only wish for your heart, though i know i am not entitled to it in any way. my love for you is like my helpful spirit towards you. i do not expect any return, though i would find my very soul shattered in the case where you would hate me for this.
i can’t help but be hopeful about your feelings towards me. it seems selfish, but… i do feel something from your end as well. my imagination, maybe.
i remember all of our times together. our first time meeting in the office, every work day, when i monitor your schedule to make sure you eat on time, the haunted house, the time i was drunk off my mind, the play, the shrine, the shooting club, the hospital, the pond. and in every scenario, i can find a moment, many moments, where i felt like i loved you.
as i write this, you have just left my office after dropping off a case analysis. i wished you would stay, but i didn’t have any excuse. so i continued to write about you. i’m sure celestine would laugh at me for this, for my “high schooler behavior”. what she should be critiquing me for is the fact that i’m writing you a letter rather than working, in my opinion.
anyway, i should get back to the topic at hand. i’m very in love with you. in love with the way you’ve lit up my life, and shown me that it’ll be alright. i hope that i make you feel better as well, as you’ve healed me. i used to doubt my feelings like they would ruin me, but i consider myself ready, only if you are.
something tells me nothing will happen without me taking action, but i find my hands trembling even at the thought. i think back at it all, all the times you fell asleep in my car under my protective gaze, thinking that you’d be awake in a taxi. every night that we had dinner together and you insisted that we split the bill. when you explained women’s skincare products to me (it’s quite the fascinating topic).
i found myself wanting to kiss you every time back then. even now, i am stopping myself from walking to your desk and wrapping my arms around you, your head nuzzled into my chest. you’d deny the name ‘mr. wing’ for the less formal ‘artem’, because there would be no need for formality between lovers.
i notice everything about your sense of style as well. it helps when choosing gifts and places to go out, as well as a topic to give compliments on. you know my favorite color is the one of my eyes, and you often tell me how pretty my eyes are. you often tell me how comfortable my shoulders are, and how my hands are perfect. each statement brings a furious blush to my face (mostly my ears) which i know that you notice.
rosa, you’re a lot better at examination than you think you are. you always impress me with your intense knowledge of the law and of each case. no matter how much you insist that you’ll never be as good as me, in my eyes you’re already better. maybe my love biases me, but is that not its purpose?
ha, you just came in and asked if we can eat cup noodles for dinner. do you like them that much? it’s no problem, i’ll make noodles for you as often as you want. you seem to like certain vegetables more than others. i’ll always cook for you, do anything for you.
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this letter found its way to rosa’s desk, when artem accidentally dropped it onto her desk along with other papers related to work. the vibrant blush on rosa’s face and her widened eyes told the story for her.
artem… have you been simmering in your love for this long?
meanwhile, artem was in his office frantically searching for the item that had made its way into rosa’s hands. “no… did i put it on her desk? maybe she didn’t read it yet, i’ll go get it.”
artem closed his door on the way out, pacing to rosa’s desk when she suddenly bumped into him.
the moment where their eyes met was surreal, as if telling each other all the hidden thoughts that were caged away. “artem, i… i’m sorry,” she shoved the letter into his hands.
artem felt his heart sink a little. what is she sorry about? is she about to reject me?
“sorry…?” he questioned.
“sorry that i’m not as good of a writer as you.” rosa pulled him down by the tie, planting her lips on his. artem felt everything of his light up when her arms wrapped around his neck, on her toes to reach his height.
artem bent down, opening the door to his office to allow them some private space. rosa latched onto his mouth, hands running all over the smooth fabric of his shirt. artem had put the letter on the desk now, letting rosa sit on the empty part of the table as he kissed her.
“i love you too, so much…” she pulled off to hug him. artem almost couldn’t believe all of this was happening so fast, but he was more than alright with it.
they kissed again, then again, and it took a while for artem to realize that rosa had added something to the bottom of his note.
‘P.S. my love for you knows no end, artem.’