For @gentapprentices - Day 4
There is a letter safely tucked into a handmade, beautifully illustrated book placed under the cushions of a wandering magician’s tent. Written in neat, elegant Nopali script, the letter is a little rumpled, as though the magician in question had been reading it over and over, as though he’d fallen asleep under the stars with it pressed to his chest, as though he’s traced every word with his fingers so many times that it formed little crevices on the paper. It reads:
We’ve spent so many nights -talking and brewing and reading cards, and I don’t think there’s a lot that’s gone untold between us, as I’m sure you know. I’m not in the business of keeping secrets, especially not from you, so I don’t know how I went this long without telling you. Maybe I was nervous, maybe I didn’t want to make things weird between us, or maybe I just didn’t want to hear that you don’t feel the same but- it’s you, and you’ve never judged me for anything, even the things I’ve judged myself for. I’ve told you about the times I’ve messed up my spellwork, and you just laughed with me, and not at me, and told me that it happens to everyone. (The Boss says the same, but it’s easier to believe things when it comes from you, already. Don’t tell her that, though, she’ll get mad). I’ve told you about the time I accidentally set free a herd of cattle from a Venterran dairy pasture and you just thought it was funny and cool, that I was sweet for helping them back home. I’ve told you about the shitty, embarrassing things I’ve done, all the magic that never comes to me, and you’ve only smiled and reminded me of all the other things I could do, and told me what you knew about the ways to get around it. I’ve told you about everything that happened- everything that I did in those first two years after my parents died, and you always, always understood. I could lay open the worst of me and you’d still listen to me, still remind me of what’s important, and you’ve never, not once, had a problem listening to anything I’ve had to say.
So forgive me, if my keeping this a secret makes you feel like I don’t trust you with my feelings- or my secrets. I promise, I do. It’s just, it’s a hard thing to say, all of a sudden, even if I’ve said the words so many times, whispered them to myself, even said them to you, every time we said hello and goodbye. I’m scared, but you deserve the world, and surely then you deserve my courage too, so I’m gathering it up, every little bit of it, to tell you what I’m going to tell you. I’m scared, but even if you don’t feel the same, I know you won’t judge me for it. So, no pressure, please. Whatever happens, we can talk everything out, and no matter how everything pans out, there’s going to be no hard feelings. It’s not like me to take so much time in a letter to get to the point, no? Meandering’s more your style, hehe. So, allow me, though you’ve probably guessed already where this is going.
I love you as my best, dearest, cleverest, most wonderful friend, and I love you as something else, too. I won’t lie- I’ve been in love before, you know I have, but I promise, now I’m wondering if everything I’d felt back then was love, because nothing, noone’s- made me feel quite like you have. I don’t know when it happened, maybe it was the moment I met you, when you wandered into the shop in your too-big hat and your too-long scarf. Maybe it happened later, when we both sat by the steps and stretched our legs onto the road and you took a few sips of the brew I made and called me a “great magician,” when you read my cards and you blushed when The Lovers slipped out of the deck to land between us. (Maybe they’ve been saying something to you, so maybe you’ve already been expecting this. Well if you’ve been waiting too long, I’m sorry. The Boss tells me it’s not like me to pine in silence for this long, and I agree). Maybe it was even later, when we began to swap stories and you told me about how you grew up and I told you about how I did, and then we talked about magic and read books together and you asked me to teach you how to brew what I did and how to read tea leaves. Maybe it was little by little, and maybe it was all at once, but what I know, for sure, beyond even the tiniest shadow of doubt, is that in the time between then and now, I’ve fallen hopelessly, wonderfully, in love with you. I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to hold you and take care of you and help you sleep when you can’t, and wipe away your tears when you cry, and make you brews when you’re sick and kiss you and, well, a lot of things, that could fill several letters, but you get my point. I want to be there for you, and I want you to be there for me, like we are, now, but even more. I want us to stay together, and travel together, but also go home and cuddle up beside each other in that embroidered woolen quilt (another one’s in the works, by the way!). I want to knit sweaters for Faust with you, and I want us to cook and bake together, and wherever I go, I want us to introduce each other as “my lover.”
I want to learn with you, and from you, and I want you in every way, the best of you and the worst of you, and everything in between, and I can’t think of a single thing, good or bad, that’s impossible to love in you. I love you, I love you, and fuck, it feels so good to write it down and just know that you’d read it. It feels like a weight lifted right out of my chest, already. Even just writing to you makes me feel lighter, you know. You’re wonderful.
I always thought that a little bit of my heart died with Umma and Vaapa. Turns out I was wrong. I don’t know if I’d been wrong all along or if you really made my heart grow two sizes. Wouldn’t put it past you.
There’s so much more I want to tell you- you deserve to hear everything, everything that I’m feeling about you, over and over and over again. But I want to see you when I say all of that, and I need to know that you’d like to hear it. I want to hold your hands and look into your beautiful eyes, and tell you every last thing I love about you.
Look at me, rambling. You have that effect on me too. The Boss says I haven’t shut up since I saw you, and I think she’s exaggerating, but I also don’t think she’s wrong.
Again, please. Please don’t feel any kind of pressure to reply in a certain way, or anything. I’d be over the moon if you feel the same, and if you’re willing to give this a shot, but if you aren’t, that’s okay, too. I know you hate being tied down or bound to things you don’t want to bind yourself to, so- take your time, and just be honest with me, whatever it is. If you don’t have an answer for now, that’s fine too, just let me know.
I want you to be happy and safe no matter what, and I want to make you feel happy and safe, no matter who we become to each other. Ma always told me that love doesn’t have to be big things. That it’s only leaving each other’s world a little better than it was alone. And I think we’ve already done that- at least you have, for me. My world is a lot lovelier because you’re in it, and I hope I’ve done a little bit of that for you, too.
The Boss has agreed to let me keep shop here permanently, as you know. I’ve been shifting all my things to Vesuvia in bits and pieces, and I’m positive that, by the time you come back from this trip of yours, I’ll be nice and settled in, and we can have a chat about all of this over tea and biscuits, if you want.
Oh, how selfish of me. How is that trip of yours going? I know the deserts are nothing new to you, but feel free to drop by Asvin’s place if you need somewhere to stay. You won’t have to spend a thing, and you know he likes you. It’s a windy season, so be sure to take care of your skin and eyes. Apply those lotions I’ve given you, okay? And cover up enough at night, don’t catch a cold, and wear your protective charms. And please, please don’t go around following every strange superstitious local legend you hear. Some of those people chatter so much white noise just to be heard, and a lot of it isn’t even true.
I’m excited to see you again, I know you’ll have a lot of stories when you get back. Golden sand is great for the rituals that you’re aiming for, I’ve heard. You’re an amazing magician, and I love how much you love to keep learning. It makes me want to learn more too. But I hope, a little selfishly, that you don’t take too long.
Whenever you’re ready to see me, you know where to find me. I’ll be right there, at the counter, arranging charms or chatting up clients. (Or in the backroom, maybe, but we all know who they go to for cards.) I’m brushing up on my Vesuvian, to deal with customers better, and you know I’m a professional. (There’s also a list of places I want us to go together, if you’d like to. Have you had that baker’s pumpkin bread? I swoon.)
So, to summarize: I love you.
Give Faust a boop from me, and let her know my wide shoulders are just asking to be squeezed, and the jar of treats on the counter is full to the brim, waiting to be opened. I miss her as much as I miss you, and I can’t wait to see how much longer she’s grown.
I hope to see you soon, Asra.
