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    Summary

    Words have never been Felix’s strong suit. But Sylvain has always been the one person Felix never had to censor himself around. When they’re together—riding along a trail through the countryside, sitting by a campfire and trading tales of their latest adventures, wrapped in each other’s arms just before the break of dawn—words flow as freely as clear water through a stream, unimpeded by the weighty expectations so many people in Felix’s life have placed upon him.

    But letter writing is different.

    With letters, there’s no voice to gauge tone with, no hint of a smile or soulful laugh to show emotion. There’s no body language to observe, no eye contact to be had, no freckled face for Felix to read like an open book whose pages he’s studied with all the devotion and reverence of a monk reading holy scripture.

    Felix drops his head into his hands as the seconds tick by into minutes. He’s written plenty of letters. So why can’t he bring himself to write to Sylvain when it matters most?

    Taking a deep breath, Felix raises a shaky hand to pen his first line.

     

    I am writing to ask you for your hand in marriage.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
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    Chapters:
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