the front steps of the cobblestone porch were withered with age, faint marks washing from the bottoms of the many shoes that had walked upon its levels like an old stain that couldn’t be stripped from a dirty plate. your bare feet made a song of light pitter-patters that became a hymn only to your ears - or perhaps even those of the peaceful doves that occasionally made a visit to the stone bird bath that had been built long ago, still standing proudly in the center of the makeshift garden in front of your bedroom window.
toes curling against the rough texture of the steps you patiently sat upon, the corner of your eye landed on a familiar figure making his way down the quiet road. on any other given day, the mailman would’ve been bombarded by the sweet neighborhood children who liked to clamber onto his legs and stick to him like glue as he made his daily round down the street, but today was different. many wives, children, and parents were making their way to the townhall to greet their loved ones as they came back from the war. you would’ve liked to have been there, too, but you were expecting a letter.
“miss y/n, I could have just put the post in your mailbox or at your doorstep,” chanyeol chuckled in amusement, already digging into his satchel as he spoke, “I’m sure that jongin wouldn’t want to come home to an ill wife, you know.”
“I’ll be careful, chanyeol - I always am.” you reassure him with a warm smile of gratitude as the mailman slips the couple of letters into your awaiting hands. his curly black locks seem to bounce as he straightens himself out and makes his leave, offering a polite salute to the flag resting beside the tattered mailbox at the end of the short driveway.
immediately you look through the letters, ignoring the bills that were sure to give you a headache and a post from your aunt and uncle, sure to contain a postcard from wherever they were in the world. soon enough your fingers trace the familiar name etched onto the slightly yellow tinted envelope, a tiny smile gracing your lips. there’s no hesitation present as you hold yourself back from practically ripping the letter open and unfold the paper inside.
the winter season has started to enter the valley, my love, but I don’t fear any sort of rash illness when I wear the scarf you knitted for me just last season - to which feels like it was so long ago. I miss being able to wake up to your beautiful smile, to your hands resting on my waist so I wouldn’t get out of bed; why, I suppose I just miss everything about you.
I’m deeply sorry for disappointing you… I won’t be able to come home for christmas this year; the captain was gravely injured during our last raid, unfortunately, and now I am in charge until he is healthy enough to command us again. I must lead these soldiers into battle for the next month, maybe even more than that one - I do this to protect our home, to protect you, my love. I only hope that one day all of our work here will be enough to bless us with a bright future, one where you won’t have to hold onto me each morning as if it might be our last.
a laugh bubbles past your lips at his cheesy words filled with a sweetness that only candy could give you, one of your hands drifting to rest over your belly that had certainly grown a bit since his last departure.
kim jongin could never disappoint you, or his unborn child.
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