"come home and shout at me. come home and fight with me. come home and break my heart, if you must. just come home."
Kakashi finishes adjusting the ties on his armor, spine and shoulders stiff, trying to gain control of the small amount of exposed expression before he turns around. Still, his lone eye is flinty when he turns to look at Gai, and he allows the silence after the plea to stretch on, and on, past the point of uncomfortable and into painful territory. Is he supposed to be tempted by the idea of fighting with him? He hates fighting with Gai. He hates this conversation.
They both know it's a selfish ask, anyway. Are they allowed to be selfish?
"What's 'home', Gai? You?" He asks, voice tight with... with irritation, with pain. Kakashi hates that he can't quite muster the derision he'd like with the question- with a little more scorn it would have been reprimand for the presumption, but without it the question sounds genuine. Is his home here in Gai's room? Is it dragging himself off Gai's couch to work out and spar early in the mornings, and then getting a filling breakfast shoved at him until he relents? Is it the casual touches on his shoulders, his elbows, the small of his back, his flank, is it the fingers carding through his hair? Kakashi is a little afraid that the answer might be yes.
Gai has opened his mouth to reply, but Kakashi doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want to argue with him, or watch the flash of hurt in his eyes when Kakashi snaps at him again- so he steps into his space, chest to chest, and then gracefully folds his legs beneath him until he's kneeling, his hands resting on the backs of Gai's thighs, his cheek pressed to his stomach as he stares up at him. The other man's mouth freezes in a shocked little "o", even as his big, hot hands settle one on the meat where his neck runs into his shoulder, and one on his jaw. Gentle pressure. His body armor presses into the fronts of his thighs, like Kakashi might try to crawl inside of him.
He strikes before Gai can untie his tongue.
"We will never be able to promise that to each other, Gai, you know that," Kakashi's voice is low, soft. "Our lives don't belong to us, and they never will. Stop asking this of me."
give me your hand. / give me everything you've got. / and the light from window will fall on us burning hot, / just like a torch.
draping himself dramatically over lee's lap. "oh, if only i had someone to go get curry with. someone precious, like a darling son or something."
the movement was sudden, and slightly unexpected, but lee doesn't move. doesn't even properly look down at his father. he tends to space out when talking to matatabi, seems like the jônin's patience ran dry at last. one moment his lap was empty, suddenly there was a weight there. and lee isn't even remotely surprised to find his father in his field of vision.
he leans forward, and holds gai in some sort of half embrace. how hard he tries to surpress a smile.
❝ oh, i feel the same way. ❞ his tone is playfully dramatic. ❝ curry would hit the spot right now, especially if i shared it with someone infinitely precious. and then i'd say, let's train a bit, or go home and cuddle, OR BOTH. if only i had a father who loved me, who i loved in return. ❞
among the scars that pretty much trace his veins, there are eight small, circular scars for each gate that was opened during the war. the first two are on either side of his head, the next five are in a neat line down the middle of his chest and stomach, and the last one over his heart.
Is this a genjutsu? The man looks exactly like him! Or … a henge? Wait a minute… brother?
Horror strikes Gai’s chest like a hammer, hollowing out a space for dread to fester and swell. Dad couldn’t have… couldn’t have hid a secret like that, could he? But he’d hidden his mastery of the gates, too.
@gatesopen sent a letter.
a hand atop lee's head, fingers threading gently through his hair. "you've gotten so much taller in what feels like days. soon enough you'll tower over me."
gai's calloused hand moves gently through the well kept bowlcut, and lee's eyes close in comfort. long has he hungered for this feeling, this fluttering in his chest, a bubbling energy beneath taut skin, another form of anxiety, he used to believe, the boy knows better now -- recognizes the feeling of being loved. it felt like he could never have enough of it now, no longer shyly standing next to his father, he embraces it freely, and blessedly, gai seemed to never run out kind touches and sweet words of encouragement. ❝ it's because of my youth!! ❞
he chuckles giddily, and the praise coaxes a soft blush from lee. he did grow, it's true, the jumpsuit that had been a little too big for him not too long ago now fit him like a glove. as if his father had foresight, everytime lee was about to need a new one, he had a bigger one at hand. if gai told him he saw the future lee would certainly believe him, the jônin was just awesome like that.
he tilts his head, black eyes open to look up at the older with awe. to be just as tall as his father would be a dream, towering over him were thoughts lee did not even entertain in his dreams. there is a glint in his eyes, there, then gone, as if he briefly considered it. to be bigger than maito gai, to be faster, to be stronger, that's impossible. ❝ don't be silly papa, i'll never be taller than you -- unless -- ❞ his smile brightens still, and bandaged hands reach upwards. he'll only be bigger than gai with his help, and he did love being picked up and held by his papa.
@gatesopen sent a letter.
the conversation is hushed, spoken at the small dinner table gai had insisted on having, with no intention of waking the boy down the hall. but much like uncontrolled emotions, gai doesn't always have a say in what is heard. he says, "i am not my father," to genma and his voice is hard. angry. not at her, and she knows that, but it comes out so aggressively that he startles himself with it. clearly startles lee as well, who'd been just behind the corner, and gai hears the accidental knock of his elbow against the wall.
sharing a look with genma, gai sighs softly, standing from the table to approach the hallway lee still hasn't come out from. "i thought you were sleeping. i'm sorry if i woke you," he says, lifting a hand to rest atop lee's head. there's an unreadable look on his face, lips pursed like there's something he wants to say. gai isn't sure if he wants to unpack his own frustrations at the moment, but he won't send lee back to bed with something pressing at his mind. "why don't we go to your room? we can... talk a bit. about what's on both our minds."
he sleeps easier with his parents at home, knowing they were just down the hall; that his root duties exhaust him greatly, mentally more than phyiscally, helps too. but that doesn't mean the young jônin's sleep is calm. shinobi trained instincts quiet his footfalls down the hall, all he wants to do was to get a glass of water and return to his warm nest of blankets. ( forget about the world for a few more hours if possible ) gai and genma were most likely asleep already.
the hushed voices drag him from the murky waters of half doze, a few words picked up here and there as he inches closer, curiosity killed the cat, as they say. he'd just briefly listen in, to check if everything was alright -- he'd be back in bed long before his parents even noticed he was awake. gai sounded. . . angry. thick brows furrow. matatabi said something, but lee hardly heard her voice over single minded concentration. leaning against the cool wall, eyes focused on the broad shadow he knew was his father's, subtly move over the warm blanket of light cast onto the floorboards.
i am not my father, gai bites, and the rage in his voice caused lee to flinch as if he'd been slapped. though the jinchūriki could stop himself from backing into a nearby tale, his elbow did hit the wall. the young maito was definitely not supposed to hear that, what now? use matatabi's chakra cloak, his unrivalled speed to run back into his room before gai found him, no stupid, a flash of pale blue light would reveal his presence regardless. he could -- before waging all options gai was already around the corner. and lee just stared.
maito lee hasn't stared at gai like this in many, many years, and the way he failed to surpress another startled twitch when is father's coarse hand reached torwards him fills him with shame. a bandaged hand nigh mindlessly reaches up to brush against the honey yellow scarf losely wrapped around his neck, he wears it all the time, to feel connected to his beloved grandfather. for a first time since he got it wearing it felt.... inapropriate. ❝ [ . . . ] papa? ❞ the look on gai's face was unreadable, and as if it had become second nature to copy him, lee stared back with another unreadable look in these dark eyes.
❝ okay. ❞ he swallows hard. turns to walk torwards his room, unaware if he was allowed to -- or expected, to look back at his father. a bandaged hand reached up, as subtly and nonchalant as he could muster, to take off the scarf. lee always felt connected to dai when wearing it, but something in him told the jônin that his grandfather wasn't welcome at the conversation they were going to have.
quietly lee opens the door. silly as it may sound, though the countless plush toys gai had bought him in his early years were no longer played with, they remained in lee's room. neatly put aside in a cabinet. lee still treassured them. now, though, all they represented were countless eyes piercing him as he sat on the bed, waiting for his father to join him. he waits for gai to speak first, make sense of the fraction of the conversation lee had been an unfortunate witness to. talking to his father always cleared things up. this was a missunderstanding, it had to be. ❝ matatabi said she is giving us privacy. ❞ the great nekomata descended far back into his subconscious, and lee finally mustered the courage to look back up at gai.
he moves his hand, so slowly and deliberately, as if he was afraid of the elder's reaction. the back of his hand gently brushing against his fathers. it was a question more than a gesture this time, he knows not about dai's relationship with gai -- only as much as his own father told him, clearly not as much as he thought he did. ( and that did hurt ) whatever happened between you and your father, we're okay, aren't we?
he tried. he really did. he kept the kindness thing up for what felt like hours before the subtle insults and undermining became too much. genma won't blame him for it, because she never does, but he feels like she's owed an explanation regardless. bailing him out of jail and all. "my father always said to kill them with kindness," gai says as they walk the familiar road back to her home, after the silence has stretched for a bit, "but i am not my father."
Genma gets the call at 2:30 in the afternoon-- she's been working midnights, so when Mai barges into the room without knocking and throws the phone at her head, she only barely catches it with a fumble and a curse. Impressive, considering she'd been dead asleep a half second before. It takes her a second to orient herself, staring at the now empty doorway and then at the phone in her hands blearily, before she lifts it to her ear and hazards: "Hello, hello?"
Gai's booming voice is tinny on the line. He says something about bail money. She should be paying more attention, but she's still half asleep. There's a pause on the line. He's waiting for her to say something. "Okay," she says, rubbing her eyes. "Uh, which jail? The one in the Northern quarter?" When he confirms, she hums, and then replies, "Okay. I'll be there in ten. Be good."
Northern quarter is the part of the village that has all the upscale neighborhoods, and is coincidentally the only quadrant that really bothers to arrest shinobi for fighting. She highly doubts Gai would be getting into a fight so bad that they'd bother arresting him anywhere else. She lays her face in the pillow, snickering to herself at how those officers must have been shaking in their boots when they pulled out the handcuffs. Her shoulders start to relax.
She shoots back up, remembering it's a twenty minute walk to that police station. Genma leaps out of bed, sorting through the laundry she keeps at the family apartment, hoping for a respectably not-wrinkled jounin uniform, and hissing out a curse when nothing clean turns up. Maroon yukata and some pants it is. Wallet, very important in the provision of bail money. She tries to tame her hair as she slips out the window and takes to the rooftops, but between her naturally ridiculous bedhead and the wind, she somehow looks even more like she rolled out of bed when she lands in front of the station than she did when she left the sheets in just her skivvies.
The officer staffing the desk has a name tag that reads: MITASHI, and he grimaces at her when she slips in the front past a man clutching his bloodied nose, cursing under his breath. She smiles at him, and he sighs. He doesn't look familiar to her, but apparently he knows the types she's bailed out before, because he just gestures with a thumb at the back after he tells her the bail, she forks over some cash, and signs a few documents.
If I was Hokage, she ponders fancifully as they send someone back to get Gai, I would institute cash free bail.
Ha.
Gai spots her and seems a little guilty over the fact that he'd woken her, and she's content to wander along sleepily next to him until he decides to fill the silence. Their arms brush, and she leans on him absently, and he puts an arm around her shoulders and squeezes her.
"My father always said to kill them with kindness," he informs her quietly. "But I am not my father."
Genma can't help but think of these things: human charcoal, the smell of burning flesh. Great, red flames licking the sky. Gai, sobbing, wide-eyed and grey. She presses closer to him, slinging her arm around his strong waist, warm in the afternoon sun. He smells like gravel, like he's been sweating. It's easy to imagine what it was that caused the fight, if Gai is bringing up his father.
"Mm," she agrees. She knows he didn't kill anyone, so she isn't worried about that. "My mother used to say the same thing, you know. But she had a poison she'd called Kindness." It wasn't very kind at all, some necrotic agent that destroyed organ function very, very slowly. Shiranui Orihime was a complicated woman.
Genma is quite a bit like her, and not at all.
"They probably won't do much more than fine you," she sighs softly. "Shinobi usually don't get jail time for their first couple of fighting offenses, as long as they weren't going around beating up civilians left and right-- and I imagine you were provoked."
Gai just grunts at her, which confirms that he's still a bit irritated at whatever words were exchanged, but she won't press if he doesn't feel like telling her now. She's in no rush. She's taking him to get some food, since she's awake.
Genma smiles, a soft little thing, when he squeezes her against his side once more. "Let's get some barbecue," she says.
"As you wish! I will pay for it, since you so graciously--"
"Gai," she interrupts him, "They usually take all the money in your wallet when they confiscate all your shit as they book you. I'll buy, and you can pay me back later by promising the next time Hatake gets arrested, you will bail him out."
Outrage, then hearty laughter. She tucks her fingers against his hip beneath his waistband, and feels the powerful muscle beneath flex as they walk on.
Above ground, the spring sun was the saddest one / (doing work, but also none). What were you wearing? / Something hopeful to show the world you hoped?
gai has once again forgotten to wait for genma to rinse her mouth out before kissing her—
He's lucky she manages to flick the senbon dangling from her lips into the ceiling before he crashes his lips against hers- and of course, lucky that she's taken to only sucking on senbon with the mildest of paralytic agents when she thinks he might be lurking around.
Gai's arms around her shoulders are warm and strong; she doesn't bother pulling away from him. Instead, her hand creeps up between them and slips between their lips, until he's kissing her palm, and when he opens his eyes he can see the corners of her own curling into a smile.
"Good morning," she murmurs.
"Good morning, my love!" He replies, and then his brows pull together as his tongue handles the words clumsily.
Genma raises one of her own brows, and informs him drily: "You'll be fine, the numbness should dissipate in a few hours, unless you've got any cuts in your mouth."
Shaking his head, one of the arms around her shoulders slips to her waist instead, pulls her close until they're chest to chest. She smiles up at him, and he leans down to kiss her again, only stopped by her pressing her index finger to his forehead.
"Nuh-uh," she snickers at his clumsy pout. "The whole mouth is a-"
"Mucous membrane!" comes the proud interjection, slurred because he's continuing to lose control of his tongue and lips. She wipes a little bit of saliva from the corner of his mouth with the corner of her sleeve affectionately.
"Right," she confirms. And then, slyly: "So you clearly remember my lecture about susceptibility to contact poisons, but you're still kissing me on the mouth because...?"
He flushes, eyes flickering to her lips.
"Yeah," she takes mercy on him, grabbing her poison-free canteen and holding it up. "Let's wash your mouth out, that'll help."
I want him everywhere and if he's beside me I know I need never care / But to love him is to meet him / Everywhere knowing that love is to share
@gatesopen sent a letter.
lee's been talking for the better part of an hour about something that gai lost the plot to about thirty minutes prior. he feels awful to have gotten so distracted, but he can't help the warmth and fondness that fills him seeing lee so happy. even if it's only for a short moment, gai hopes that he can always see lee this way. "apologies, my darling boy, you may have to run that back a bit for your old man."
turns out after three months of tense, enforced silence -- the young genin had much and more to say. his father, blessedly, willing to listen to the boy's ramblings; like a feral cat jumping off the walls, from coherence into abstract thoughts. about how it feels to be a jinchuriki, about the power it gave him, COMPARABLE TO THE INNER GATES, but without the draw backs -- safe from the one time he completely lost control. . . and woke up in a puddle of gore and bone that used to be a person. yeah, gai needn't know the details about that.
the two tailed beast rests her great head on a trenchant paw, she too is befallen of lee's rants NOW THAT THE FEAR IS GONE. his thoughts, unfiltered, rained down on the nekomata with reckless abandon. and she takes it with the grace of a mother.
and lee was about to move onto a new subject AGAIN, when the jônin finally gets a word in edgewise. -- the jinchūriki pauses briefly, he'd love to go back for gai, of course, pick up where his father had lost him at last -- if lee himself was able to follow his scattered string of thoughts. his previous position, standing in front of the couch, allowed for a visual reenactment of his thoughts; but having given it some more thought, lee sat down next to his father, and snuggled closer to his side. ( HOW HE MISSED THAT ) the familiar scent, the feeling of gai's chakra.
❝ i think -- the fire of youth is black and blue, it has claws and fangs and two missmatched eyes. it's as tall as the hokage mountain and melts stone and steel with a single breath. ❞ has he exhausted himself at last? the boundless energy calmed, and lee closed his eyes in comfort. almost cat like in the way he leans against his father. ❝ her name is matatabi, and i told her about you, she had a look of my memories too, SHE LIKES YOU. ❞ obviously. for wasn't maito gai the GREATEST MAN EVER.
It's late when Kakashi hears the front door open-- this is no two am bender, don't get him wrong, but a wild night out for them these days typically consists of a dinner that ends at eight, cozy in bed by nine. He's in the kitchen making himself some tea and it's close to eleven, and he can hear Gai hiccuping in the entry as he toes off his sandals and wheels himself into the house. Without a word, Kakashi pulls down another mug and some more red dates and ginger to chop.
"Kakashiiiiiii--" Gai calls, slightly slurred. He must have had a nice time at the bar with Kurenai. Kakashi had begged off, not wanting to lurk on the edge of the crowd miserably until Gai took pity on him and came home with him early, and now he's glad that he did. "Kakaaashiiiii--"
"What," he calls softly from the kitchen. A few thumps are his only answer for a moment, and then Gai rolls in, pressing into the back of Kakashi's knees until he's seated in his lap with the firm line of his body along Kakashi's spine, tucking his face against the side of his neck with a satisfied sigh.
"Kakashi," Gai mutters against his skin. His nose is chilly from the night air, but his lips are hot, like he'd been chewing on them all night. His hands settle palm flat on his bare stomach just above his waistband. His voice shifts into a whine: "I want my husband."
"Who's your husband?" Kakashi asks calmly, reaching out for the kettle just as it starts to whistle on the stove. Gai's fingers spasm against the tender skin below his navel, and Kakashi has to force himself not to react to the ticklish feeling by spilling boiling water all over both of them or accidentally headbutting him. He carefully pours the water into the cups on the counter, and pushes them as close to the wall as they can get, and sets the kettle on the stove, all while Gai's hands trace around his torso-- waist, hips, ribs, up over his chest, back down over the tender skin of his belly, tracing his fingers over a long scar over his hip.
"Kakashi," he continues to insist, "Kakashi, Kakashi, I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you, my handsome lover, my wonderful husband..."
As soon as Kakashi sets the kettle down, Gai takes both of his wrists in one hand and pulls him closer into his lap, pinning him against his hips with his free hand, half mast pressed to the curve of his asscheek. Kakashi goes easily, a soft noise escaping him without his permission, shivering when pressing his hips back against Gai's makes his hands tighten on his wrists.
"Gai," he drawls conversationally as his husband starts kissing down the side of his throat. "I'm making us tea, ginger and, ah-- jujube."
"...Us?" Gai pauses his onslaught, settling his chin on Kakashi's shoulder and peering at the twin steaming mugs. His voice trembles, and his arms fold back around his waist until he's squeezing the air from Kakashi's lungs. "You are so kind and thoughtful, Kakashi. I love you. I adore you, I--"
"I know, Gai, I love you too," he cuts off the monologue gently, turning around in Gai's arms and putting his hands on his cheeks to pull him into a slow, gentle kiss. He can feel Gai smiling into it, which makes him smile, and he draws away, holding Gai's face still when he tries to follow. "Will you rinse your day off and put something more comfortable on? You smell like you were licking the bar."
Gai wiggles his brows. Kakashi rolls his eyes and climbs out of his lap, sends him off to the bathroom with an encouraging pat on his thigh.
He carries the mugs into the bedroom, setting them on the bedside table and turning down the duvet. The shower is shockingly (or perhaps not shockingly) brief, and he's barely had time to shuck his pants before Gai is back in his space, naked as the day he was born, pressed up against his back again, kissing the nape of his neck and sneaking his hands down the front of his underwear, making a self-satisfied noise at the slick slide he finds. "I want my husband," he rumbles into the tender skin beneath his ear.
"Maa, you've said," Kakashi leans back against him and resting his head against Gai's shoulder, turning his face to him in a silent demand for a kiss. "Why don't you take him, then?"
Gai presses his lips to his jaw, the corner of his mouth, stroking him with overly careful fingers and then slipping them inside. When Kakashi gasps, Gai kisses him on the mouth, sliding his tongue between his teeth with the same deliberate, careful slide as his fingers. Kakashi feels like an insect pinned under glass, trying to be still beneath Gai's ministrations, pliant and warm in his lap with his thighs sprawled. Gai keeps up a steady commentary as his free hand roams up his stomach, over his chest, warm hands thumbing at his nipples. After he starts to squirm, his breath quickening, Gai's hand moves on to settle at his throat, pinning his head in place. He presses another kiss to his jaw, and then tells him: "I want my husband, I want to taste him," and pulls his hand up from between Kakashi's thighs and licks his fingers clean.
Kakashi pants open mouthed against his cheek, and obediently sticks his tongue out when Gai presses his fingers to his lips, letting him slide his fingers past his wolf's teeth, pliant and relaxed. He can still taste himself, and Gai's minty toothpaste, as the fingers slide deep and hot and dense back toward his throat.
"Will he let me taste him?" Gai asks without removing his fingers, smiling against his cheek at the noise of desperate agreement Kakashi manages to rub two braincells together to make. "Will he ask me nicely for it?"
Kakashi gasps as he pulls his fingers out of his mouth, managing a ragged "please--" and little else.
"'Please' what?"
"Gai, come on--" he whines, and that must be enough of a victory for Gai to take mercy on him. He releases him, and Kakashi stands on trembling, coltish legs to stumble over to the bed, kicking off his underwear and letting his legs fall open as Gai follows, and settles between his thighs. His hand fists in Gai's hair and he growls at the languid, kittenish licks he's receiving, much to Gai's amusement.
"Kakashi, my love," Gai nips at his thigh to get his attention, redirecting his hands to grip the sheets. "Let me take care of you, please."
"Okay," he knows he sounds like a wild animal, especially when Gai goes back to sleepily pleasuring him with his mouth, the slow movement of his tongue just enough to keep him toeing the edge but not enough to send him over, carrying on for what feels like hours until he stops to take a breath.
He stops. To take a breath? And he doesn't start again. Kakashi, with monumental effort and no small amount of dread, lifts his head to blink at Gai and ask him what he's doing, and sees immediately: he's sleeping, cheek pressed to his thigh, drooling and sticky and content with himself, Kakashi is very sure.
"You motherfucker," Kakashi mutters under his breath. His only response is a snore.
He lets his head fall back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he should just leave him down there while he finishes himself off. He even considers waking him up and telling him to damn well finish what he started. Both of those seem like an awful lot of work. He shifts, sitting up and wiping Gai's face with the corner of the sheet, and then arranges his limbs and drags him up the bed until he's laying with his head on the pillows.
He turns to the end table to turn out the light, and his gaze falls on the two mugs of tea he made.
"You motherfucker," he repeats to himself, picking up one of the mugs and taking a sip. It's perfect chugging temperature. He's not going to let it go to waste. Once he finishes both of them, he shifts restlessly in the bed for a moment, looks at the clock. 12:35am. He's restless.
Kakashi gets out of bed and putters around-- uses the restroom, puts on a pair of Gai's comfiest pants from the dirty clothes pile, and leaves a glass of water and a couple of painkillers on Gai's end table, even though he knows Gai is too good for hangovers.
He crawls back into bed, throwing the duvet over both of them, and sighing as he curls up at Gai's side, arm thrown lazily over his ribs. He stares hard at the side of his face, laughs to himself, and tucks his face into his neck, waiting to fall asleep.
when the water on the window let the sunlight through / and I got a good look at you / standing above me bright and tall / there are no words for it
@copycaat: #ah. of course he reads it :) he doesn't reply but he reads it several times. #he reads it until obito's eye stops weeping and then he carefully folds it away and keeps it in a box under his bed #isn't this what all of us are destined for? glorious painful death?
he died on the battlefield, with the 8th gate open and fire consuming both his heart and soul, just like he always imagined. probably even more so, considering he died to save myself, genma and ebisu.
i don't i'm not i feel it's strange. i know death very well. you never got to meet my mother, but she was a beautiful woman with a voice like an angel. she used to sing to my father and i all the time. sometimes, when i remember her, it feels like she only spoke in song. when she died, i dealt with many firsts. my first loss, my first heartbreak, my first real and true sense of fear. i thought it prepared me for anything. and it did, in a way, because i've seen so much death since then, but this...
is this my future? is this what i'm destined for? i would gladly lay down my life for the ones i love, but sometimes i wonder if my father had the right idea or not.
i don't know. it feels wrong to question it. you probably won't even read this. part of me hopes you don't. i also don't know why.
i should be home soon. there isn't anything left of him to bring back. even if there was, it wouldn't be him anymore. i hope there's something left of me when i go.
WITH KIND REGARDS…
SEND ONE OF THE FOLLOWING SYMBOLS FOR A LETTER FROM MY MUSE:
⛰️ — A POST CARD/LETTER FROM RECEIVER’S TRAVELS.
🪶 — A LETTER INQUIRING ABOUT SENDER’S HEALTH.
💌 — A LOVE LETTER.
🦢 — A LETTER OF INTRODUCTION.
🎀 — AN INVITATION.
✍ — A CONFESSION.
🧸 — AN APOLOGY.
🪺 — A LETTER ANNOUNCING A LIFE EVENT. (pregnancy, engagement, etc.)
🐦⬛ — A LETTER NOTIFYING THE SENDER OF A DEATH.
🫖 — A LETTER DETAILING NEW GOSSIP.
💐 — A LETTER OF BEREAVEMENT.
🪽 — A SECRET.
♟️ — A LETTER DETAILING A STRATEGY.
⚡️ — BLACKMAIL.
— A THREAT.
🌷 — A PROMISE.
☁️ — A LETTER OF RECEIVER CONFIDING ABOUT THEIR FEARS/MENTAL HEALTH.
🫧 — A LETTER ASKING SENDER FOR HELP.
🧺 — A LETTER DETAILING OUR MUSE’S NEXT MEETING.
🫖 — A LETTER SENT FROM THE FRONTLINES.
⁉️ — A LETTER WHICH WAS ACCIDENTALLY SENT TO THE RECEIVER BUT WAS MEANT FOR ANOTHER, REVEALING THE SENDER’S TRUE FEELINGS.
🎲 — RECEIVER PICKS ONE FOR THE SENDER.
