Person: @iskra-tqd Location: Thee Doorstep He'd gone home after that party more than a little drunk and he'd taken maybe one boot off before he'd sat himself down at his desk and got to work. That's what alcohol was for, wasn't it? Liquid courage, and he needed that. It's not like he didn't have the words, they'd been written down and erased and crumpled up time and time again, he thinks he could have written them in his sleep. The challenge had just been putting them to paper, but he'd done it. He'd done it and he'd put the long letter in an envelope and a few days later, he'd knocked at her door and he stood there. He stood there with that letter in his hand and pretended he was rooted to the spot for fear of losing his nerve. Rowan had knocked and then he waited with baited breath, envelope held tight between his fingers.