Gustave x Lune | 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 🦋
Summary: Gustave had always struggled to express his feelings verbally, often leaving his sentences unfinished. That evening, he decided to put them on paper. It wasn’t just a simple letter every word was meant for someone he had cherished for a long time.
Based on the refrain of "Best PART" by Daniel Caesar.
Credit: The illustrations were created by Hero_of_Badass on Twitter. Without her, this story would never have existed. She also creates other artwork around Clair Obscure, with love and care. If you want to take a little journey, go check out her work! 😊
Do not: claim, repost, copy, or translate my stories anywhere else.
I apologize in advance but English is not my mother tongue. 🧡
~*.♪。★*・゜・＊♪*.♪。★*・゜・＊♪*.♪°~
The night had wrapped the academy’s corridors in darkness when Gustave finally put down his pen.
His ink-stained fingers trembled almost more than his thoughts. He had been working on this letter for a good fifteen minutes already, and nothing was coming out. Not exactly nothing the words were there, burning, almost unbearable. But every time he tried to write them, his heart raced, his cheeks flushed, and he put the pen down with a sigh. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, reread the lines once, twice, three times, and finally exhaled.
— “This is ridiculous… no, it’s too much… or maybe not enough…”
He was used to writing equations, field notes, and observations from his expeditions. But putting his heart on paper? That was another kind of expedition, far more perilous. Still, it was the only way he could tell Lune what he never dared say to her in person.
He furrowed his brows, bit his lip. Expedition journals and half-rolled maps around him testified to a man who never stopped working. But tonight, nothing scientific mattered. Just a blank sheet of paper that intimidated him more than any mountain summit.
Yet the words he wanted to write were heavier than he admitted. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath and let himself go. The order didn’t matter, perfection didn’t matter. He would write as it came.
Slowly, in his careful, neat handwriting, he began:
“You don’t know, Lune, when you hold me,
It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever known,
If I had the choice, you’d know that you are…”
He paused, sighed, ran a hand over his face. Red, even alone. “Ridiculous… but true.” He continued, faster this time, as if afraid of losing the courage he had gathered:
“You are the coffee I need in the morning,
you are my sunshine when it rains,
my remedy when everything weighs me down.
If life is a movie… you are the best part.”
The last word trembled, the ink pressed a little heavier. He stared at the letter for a long moment, still hesitating to tear it up. He had also left a small potted flower, writing “Luné” just above the letter.
Then, glancing around furtively, he slid the letter onto Lune’s desk. The real moon reflected through the windows, illuminating the scene. He smiled despite himself a funny coincidence.
Lune entered her classroom as usual, a notebook under her arm, her hair still a bit messy from a short night. She set down her things and immediately noticed the envelope in the center, accompanied by a small potted flower.
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. No one ever left anything here. She reached for the envelope, hesitated for a second, and then took it into her hands. The paper was slightly crumpled, as if it had been handled many times before being placed there. She felt her heart tighten with a sweet, bittersweet anticipation.
Seeing the awkwardly written name, “Luné,” a smile escaped her. She already recognized the careful handwriting, almost too neat to hide the nervousness. Gustave.
She took a deep breath and opened the envelope. The first lines hit her like a warm breath. Her fingers brushed the edge of the paper. She pressed the sheet to her chest for a moment, as if to make sure the warmth she felt wouldn’t escape.
— “Gustave…You..” She carefully folded the letter and tucked it against her heart, already impatient for the moment she could see him again and this time, not let him hide behind his flushed cheeks.
True to himself, Gustave tried to disappear into the shadows of the corridors. He had taken refuge at the back of the library, between two dusty bookshelves, a notebook on his lap as camouflage. But his ears already betrayed his agitation. They were red as twilight.
He knew, he knew Lune had probably read the letter and the very thought of meeting her gaze made him want to bury himself alive under a pile of old parchments.
Suddenly, a soft step echoed. He looked up and saw her, Lune, standing at the entrance of the aisle, one hand behind her back.
— “Professor Gustave, she said with a smile that made her words both teasing and dangerous. I found… this, on my desk this morning..” She slid the letter out from her hand, in plain view.
Gustave’s heart stopped. “Oh!… this… uh… yes… no… well… it was… he began, unable to finish.”
She walked closer, each step echoing like an eternity for him. She stopped right in front of him, forcing him to lift his head to look at her. His fingers trembled around his notebook.
— “You could have just told me, you know, she murmured, tilting her head. No need to hide behind words.”
He swallowed, unable to meet her gaze. “I… I would never have managed. If I had said it… I would have turned… red… even more than I already am.”
She let out a gentle laugh and shook her head. Then, without warning, she placed the open letter on the notebook he held, and slipped a hand against his cheek.
— “And yet… you did it, Gustave. You found the words. And I’ll tell you something: it’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever written for me.”
He blinked, completely disarmed.
She laughed at his panicked expression, then lowered her voice, softer. “But most of all… you’re right. Our first date wasn’t extraordinary. But you know what? That’s exactly why I loved it. Because you were there. Because I was there and that was enough.”
Silence fell for a moment. Gustave, still unable to form a complete sentence, let his notebook slide from his lap. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again.
— “…I’ve wanted to say all this for a long time.”
She leaned a little closer, their foreheads almost touching. “So now, you don’t need paper anymore, you just have to tell me…”
He took a deep breath, eyes locked on hers. Then, in a barely audible voice. “…You are… the best part.”
And before he could get lost in a new wave of panic, she pressed a kiss to his lips. Soft, slow, awkward like their story, but so real that Gustave completely forgot he was supposed to be the one who always knew everything.
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