dear you.
trope: optional bias x fem!reader, arranged marriage, angst/fluff
synopsis: An all-too-well story through a series of letters she wrote to him, as they navigated a withering love story that had yet to see its eternal bloom.
word count: 3.7k, unedited (typical)
AHHH so excited that this is finally done!! I haven't posted in a LONG time so I'm nervous to see how this goes. thanks for reading, hope to see you soon xoxo
Dear you,
Today was the first time we met. I couldn't hear much of the loud conversation our parents were having while, well, I tried to keep the thundering beats of my heart quiet. Stolen glances were all I had the courage to give you, and when our eyes locked for a brief moment, I could’ve sworn I saw a tinge of honey in those gorgeous eyes of yours. Perhaps it was the effect of the lighting, but I doubt it.
I wonder what your hobbies are? What kind of music do you listen to? How do you take your coffee or tea? Is there a place in the world you wanna go to? Do you want the right side or the left side of the bed? Just thinking about the two of us sharing a bed makes me blush. These next few months are going to be dedicated to celebrating us, and I can’t wait for the day I get to become your wife.
Patiently waiting,
Me
Dear you,
The wedding festivities are ticking closer and closer. We got to exchange numbers so every now and then when I get the chance I send you small texts here and there. Your responses are slow, if at all, but I bet it’s because you’re busy with work. It’s no big deal, I totally get it.
Did you know, my friends ask about you all the time? I have to say that you’re always busy, so you don’t have time to talk or spend time with me. There’s always a flash of sympathy on their faces when I mention this, but I don’t care. As long as you respond to me, that’s all I care about.
I’ve been trying to learn more and more about you through your mom and sister, who have been nothing but kind to me since day one. I didn’t think you were the type to be in a band in high school, but I got ahold of one of your demos (courtesy of your sister) and I listened to it in the car one day. Pretty good, I would say. Your voice sounded so cute… a little bit of that childhood innocence is mixed in with the majority of the baritone found in your voice today.
Eager to meet you,
Me
Dear you,
When we sat down for dinner, you didn’t talk much. A couple of quick exchanges were all we had, but mostly I spent the evening picking at my food and looking around to watch the couples smile happily and enjoy their lovers’ presence. I moved one piece of broccoli around back and forth for a good ten minutes, while you quietly ate your dinner, one hand glued to your cell phone and mindless scrolling.
I saw a lady walk behind you towards the bathroom, and a quick look at your phone was all she needed to give me a look of pity before disappearing behind me. I excused myself to go the bathroom, and as soon as I leaned against the sink, my hands gripping the cold, wet porcelain, the woman was exiting the stall. I didn’t miss that strange look on her face when she approached the sink next to me to wash her hands. I tried to take a few deep breaths when she turned to me, a paper towel aggressively ripped from the automatic machine. She was hesitant, but eventually, before leaving she said to me, “take care dear, he’s not worth your time.” I don’t know why she’d said that.
Confused and a little hurt,
Me
Dear you,
The countdown is getting shorter. It’s now a matter of days, and if things weren’t crazy enough, the hustle and bustle around the house have definitely been made very obvious now. I’ve had my bachelorette party, and a few other small dinners courtesy of my friends, but I feel that now I must be the blushing bride everyone wants me to be. At least for the next few days, that is. Once we get married, things will be different. I know they will. I hope that whatever doubts and hesitations I am feeling now are nothing but mere wedding jitters.
I have to get my nails done, my hair colored and every inch of my body scrubbed and polished. My facial needs to be done, too. It’s funny, the last time I must’ve put this much effort into looking prim and perfect must’ve been for my senior prom, and it’s been years since that day. Did you go to prom as well? I have to remember to show you those dreadful photos, but back in those days, there was a spark of hope that love existed out there for me. Even if the guy I went with was nothing more than a friend, I hoped that my destiny had love written for me at some point, when I’d grow into a woman. I hope that time’s finally arrived.
Excited about what’s to come,
Me
Dear you,
The wedding is over. You looked dashing, as always, and I was told that I looked beautiful. My parents cried today, and I think it didn’t hit me until now that I really am a married woman now. You’re gone to play pool with your groomsmen, you just told me that you would be back in a bit. It’s been an hour and a half, and I got impatient and changed out of my gorgeous but annoying dress into something more breathable. I took the dozens of bobby pins out from my hair, and as I wiped the makeup away, I couldn’t help but remember the fake smile I’d put up for everyone; the pictures, your friends and family, and my friends and family. The facade is already setting in that we’re a happy couple… are we really? You didn’t even feel the need to spend tonight, of all nights, with me. I must be that ugly, huh?
Maybe pessimism isn’t how we wanna start this new chapter of our lives. I’ll try to make an effort to be more present in your life because I don’t wanna lose something without giving it a chance.
I hear your laughter downstairs. Wonder what that’s about.
Just stood by the door, but what I heard was enough to lull me into the security of my dreams. “I can’t believe we’re married… I know nothing about her, and frankly, could care less about her.”
Heartbroken on the night that was supposed to be cherished,
Me
Dear you,
Things have been up and down. On one end, when you’re around, we talk a little. Getting to know you has far exceeded my expectations, even though it’s little by little. In the beginning, you didn’t even want to sleep in the same bed as me, but one day, when I had enough I decided to confront you about it. The strongest I’d ever been, I will say, but it was liberating. You had no idea of the feeling of a burden being lifted from my shoulders that day. That conversation clearly had an effect on you, as you had started sleeping next to me since that day. but some people only deserve good, dare I say perfect, things in small doses.
I usually don’t wake up next to you. Feels like how it did when we first got married, which feels like ages even though it’s only been a few weeks. The faint dips in the bed from your body are almost completely faded by the time I wake up. The remnants of a freshly brewed pot of coffee lie in the coffee maker downstairs. I find myself repeating the same routine; making another batch of coffee, quietly having breakfast, and maybe rearranging the living room furniture to see if you’ll notice it when you get home. I do the laundry, cook a little, and work a little.
I actually did something a little interesting today, though. When I went grocery shopping I was surprised to see handwriting that wasn’t mine. I couldn’t read what you wrote, though. Your penmanship is not great but I guess in the corporate world, you don’t really see the need to handwrite things anymore. I hesitated on calling you before I eventually deciphered what you wrote. Turns out, you just need to look at it a little longer and give it some time because before you know it, it’ll unravel right in front of you. Maybe there’s hope in me that you’ll do the same.
Slowly feeling the fatigue of the night,
Me
Dear you,
Today was a bit different than the rest of the mundane days I’d spent in this empty house. I was sipping on my tea in the final hours of afternoon, reading a book when suddenly your footsteps started to echo against the marble floor. My gaze turned up to look at your figure that leaned against the doorframe, hands in your pockets. I raised my eyebrows, doggy-earring my page and setting the paperback to the side. “Hey, what’s up?” “Uh, nothing much,” you started. “I was wondering if you wanted to go grab something to eat.” I blinked back. This is the first time you’ve voluntarily offered to take me to dinner. Naturally I’ve grown a little skeptical after hearing the empty promises, but my heart has yearned for your calls. I hesitantly let my heart win over my head, and take you up on your offer.
I took out the perfect outfit, gold earrings and wore a blood red lipstick. The last time I wore a shade like this… I can’t remember. Not even on our wedding day did I go with a bold shade as this one.
When I got ready, you look up from your phone for a second and for the first time, you did a double take and took in my appearance properly. I felt shy under your gaze for a moment, but my brain was refusing to believe that this was happening. “You look nice, y/n.” I shift my gaze up through my eyelashes for a second and reply with a curt ‘thank you’.
Everything between going to the restaurant (which has a beautiful seaside view, a live musician and there’s a warmth accompanying the brisk autumn breeze), ordering the food, eating the food and going home, we had a conversation longer than we’ve ever had before.
The words exchanged were still formal, at least on my end, because deep in my heart I want you to experience what I experienced these last few months. I think you have a way of letting your frustration peek through more easily though, because I could sense your impatience with my one sentence responses to your questions and not as much reciprocation. My frustration’s getting to me too.
Wondering what’s gonna happen next,
Me
Dear you,
We walked into the house tonight and you gritted your teeth, “I’m just trying to get to know you better. Why are you making this so hard?” That made me stop in my tracks. I’m confused now, because this entire time you were the one making things hard for me. I wanted to reach out and touch you, hold you, tell you that there was always a soft spot in my heart for you. But I couldn’t. Not anymore. “You were the one that pushed me away, and I just could not keep putting in an effort to try to win someone over that never wanted to be mine in the first place,” is all I can tell you. Tears ran down my face and the pain that I buried away reappeared on the surface of my heart with a vengeance. “I wasn’t ready!” I hear you exclaim as I walk away. There’s a tone of disappointment I’m picking up from your voice, almost like you’re confused as to why I’m walking away. “Well, good. I’m glad we’re finally on the same page for once,” my shaky voice responded and I shut the door to our room.
Crying myself to sleep,
Me
Dear you,
It’s been a couple of days since our argument. We’ve gone back to our terse exchanges, the lackluster life I grew to tolerate reentered my life. One day, much like before, while I was tending to my plants you came from around a corner, and grabbed a seat before me. “Look up at me for a second.” There’s something new in your voice, a sort of fragility that has my broken heart skipping a beat. I met your gaze and paled when I took in your appearance. Not that you’d been crying or anything but I could tell the stress over the last few days started to bring out an aged quality in your features. Subtle dark circles and a shadow of a stubble along your jaw. “I want to take this moment to say a couple of things,” you started. “I want to firstly apologize for how formal I was in the beginning. The truth was I never thought I would be involved in an arranged marriage. I was confident that I’d find someone myself, and when it didn’t work out the way I wanted it to, I let my ego come in the way of even starting off on the right foot with you.” I thought back to the very beginning, your words and actions aligned with you showing no interest. Perhaps what you say is true, so I nod to let you know I hear you. “I also want to give us a chance to start over. Like I said, it was a rocky start and I don’t think our families will be too happy if we keep things going this way. I’ll put in more of an effort, but this is a two way street. Are you willing to do the same?”
Truth of the matter is, I’ve grown tired of living this way. We became two strangers, two roommates under the same roof instead of husband and wife. I know that even though I don’t show it much, there’s still a part of me that’s mad for you. I want to revive her. I want my happily ever after. If this is what will lead to that, I’m willing to give it a shot. “Yes.”
Looking forward to starting fresh,
Me
Dear you,
Things have been getting better. I learned about the company you work for and what you do there. I had an idea of when you left for the office and when you came back home. Now that your alarm is something I can hear now, I have started to mold my routine to fit yours a bit better. This is how things go now: your alarm goes off and you go and shower, while I get up and get a pot of coffee going and pull your pre-packed lunch from the fridge. By the time I get to pulling out your breakfast stuff, I hear you come down the stairs. You make our coffee, which has taken you several tries to get it right for me, and I go brush my teeth and wash my face. I come down and you’ve made your breakfast and mine. We enjoy breakfast silently, albeit on the same table, which is progress in itself. You’ve asked me how the coffee was today, and it’s a bit on the bitter side but it’s gotten much better since day one. On day one, I had to pretend to like the coffee and then I waited for you to leave so that I could remake it.
When you get back from work at the end of the day, I usually have dinner ready so that all you have to do it wash up really quick and join me for dinner on the table. Our conversations pick up a bit at this point. You tell me about anything exciting or crazy that happened at work that day, and I tell you bits and pieces about my work from home situations. You’ve made it a point to learn more about me too, so now you know that my favorite color is forest green, I have a fondness for interior design and that I’ve always wanted to go to Europe. Your favorite color is blue, you enjoy the occasional mystery novel and you have a guilty pleasure of 90s rom-coms.
Beginning to wonder when we’ll have our 90s rom-com moment,
Me
Dear you,
You have started becoming more open and friendly, and now we’re becoming friends. I find your lingering gaze on me from time to time as I complete a chore or fix my hair in the mirror. I can’t find it in me to connect my eyes with your own yet, but slowly and surely I’m getting there. I feel too shy, is that so bad? I suggested that we sit down and watch a 90s rom-com tonight, which I know you won’t object to after the latest revelation. You’ve gone to the kitchen to warm up some popcorn whilst I had time to sneak out to write this letter. I wonder if you’ll ever find these, I’ve hidden them quite well and I know you won’t look there. My wedding ring is glistening under the desk light as I finish this letter to you. Today it seems extra radiant.
Hearing you call my name with that dulcet voice,
Me
Dear you,
It’s been a while. Our mini vacation to that cute little town is over now, we’ve just returned home. I finally got to see the many sides there are to you. Your adventurous side that wants to try any new food, your mortified side when you almost slipped down the hill during our morning hike, your gentle and soft side when a little girl was standing in front of us in line for ice cream. I’ve started showing you sides of me, where I laugh the loudest at a comedy show, or make stupid puns when I read street signs or stare in awe as fresh snow falls from the sky over our heads.
Tonight you asked to kiss me. Before today the last time we kissed was for the camera on our wedding day. The air was different tonight, though. You tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and asked for permission before leaning in closer. When our lips touched, a gasp left my lungs and my world stopped. My hands froze, hovering over your face and I slowly reached in till I felt the warmth of your cheeks across my fingers. Perhaps the chill in my touch caused you to pull back in shock, but you hesitated to let go. Your hands firmly held my hips with a fragile touch, like you were scared to hurt me, maybe again. Your eyes shined back at me and I’m reminded of the moment I first laid eyes on you. That tinge of honey came back to me and is now glistening with the same want and desire I used to see in my own reflection.
My heart has had its time to heal. It’s slowly letting me love you again. I’m mortified that I’ll regret it if things go wrong, I don’t have the capacity to get hurt again. I don’t know what to do. You’ve noticed when I grow quiet and have started asking if I was okay. I put on a small smile and tell you I’m fine, but I have a feeling you see right through me.
Scared to put my heart on my sleeve yet again,
Me
Dear you,
You found them today. All of the letters. I thought I had done a pretty good job hiding them but out of sheer luck, when I found myself out of the house coincidentally while you were at home, you found the letters. You read every single one of them, you told me. That’s why when I came home and found you sitting on the couch, the letters in your hands as you read through them my heart stopped. You noticed the door closing and looked up at me, the red rims of your eyes telling me these letters have affected you in a way I don’t want to think about. “I didn’t mean to, I’m, uh, you weren't…” I started, rambling while avoiding your gaze, embarrassed and ashamed that you’ve discovered a vulnerable side of me that you could have hated. You could have left me tonight. We could have been over. But instead, you put the letters down and rushed over to hug me. Hold me tighter than I’ve ever been held before.
“I’m sorry for everything, my love,” you started and my heart stuttered at the term of endearment. “I have never known someone as sweet, kind, innocent and breathtakingly beautiful as you. Please don’t be ashamed, I shouldn’t have opened these up,” Now you were the one rambling. I looked up at you, tears gathering at the margins of my eyelids. Waiting to slip and fall so you can catch them with the calloused pads of your thumbs. Your hands holding my face, cradling me gently, I wetly smiled, “they were addressed to you for a reason, honey. It was destiny for you to see them one day. I thought my world would come crashing down at the thought of you finding these letters, but I believe you. I’m ready to give you my heart in completion once again, because now I know. You are not going to hurt me like you did before. I trust you and love you.” With that, our mouths connected once more, and we spent the whole night talking about the letters. I am glad our lives brought us together like this, for now we will spend the eternity of our lives hand in hand, facing the world together as one strong team. With love, happiness and companionship at each step of the journey, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Confident that this is my last letter to you,
Me
(p.s. You just read the ends of this letter and whined for me to keep writing to you. I’ll start giving them to you directly starting from this one, my dear)
