word count: 2,072; chapter rating: PG-13; chapter warnings: implications of childhood trauma, tragic backstory, nightmares, fear of rejection
The moon is high in the sky when August makes his way back through the woods to fetch your reply. Excitement had been thrumming under his skin since this morning, but he had to be sure that you wouldn’t see him. Not yet, he wanted to make sure that you knew it was him and that you still felt the same or if he’d just been imagining what he wanted to happen earlier. Slowly he picked his way through the trees, ducking under branches and over roots that were illuminated by the almost full moon. Finally, he reached the edge of the forest and surveyed your yard for any movement. Smoke puffed from your chimney steadily, but no light could be seen. August took a deep breath and tugged his beanie a bit further down on his head before he pushed through the heavy needled branches of the pines and onto your lawn. Your letter was there swaying gently in the breeze as it caught the moon beams on every other sway. August felt like his heart might beat out of his chest as he walked towards the clothesline. Snatching it quickly and holding it up to his nose, he sniffed and nearly cried when your perfume filled his nostrils.
He had wondered but hadn’t dared to dream that you might still spritz your perfume on your letters. Taking another deep breath, he sighed and tucked the letter into his jacket before limping back towards the forest and his humble shelter. Settling once more at his little table, August lifts your letter to his nose once more to breath in your perfume before he opens it and begin to read it by the light of the fire.
“Dear ‘Forever Yours’
There is a part of me that feels foolish for considering that you are who I think you are. The man that I loved told me that should he ever be gone more than a year to consider him dead. It’s been longer and I have been haunted by his absence ever since he departed. If you are truly him as I think you are implying that why not reveal yourself to me? Are you but a ghost taunting me? The specter of the lover that once held me dear. I cannot bear to lose him again. I want to believe that you are my lover, because he never truly felt gone in my soul, but I need a sign. Please show me.
- (y/n/n)”
August feels his heart twist at the sadness in your letter. He’d been so worried about himself and whether you’d replaced him that he’d failed to consider that you could be grieving for him. A wave of guilt washes over him as he rests his head on his hand as his eyes well with tears. His girl had been missing him and he’d been too consuming by his own self-loathing to even think about it. Getting out his notebook once more, he pens his reply.
“My Angel,
I assure you there is no prank or false pretenses on my part, and I do not believe you to be foolish. If one of us is foolish, it’s me. I do not deserve to be loved as tenderly and as soundly as you loved me. And I did tell you to assume me dead if I left you for more than a year. However, there was some gracious part of the universe allowed me to make my way back to you. I’m sorry that I have brought you grief, I have done my best to get back to you as soon as a I could.
You are my whole world, but I fear that I couldn’t give what you deserve anymore? I’m not the man that you knew. What could I give an angel like you when I am but a broken, renegade, wanted and on the run? You are an angel, and I am the furthest thing from good, yet you have always made me feel good. I long to bask in your light, bathe in your warmth once more, but I fear that you’ll reject me once you’ve seen what I’ve become, and I could not bear that. In due time, I vow that I will make you believe that I am who you think I am. You must trust me, Angel. Can you do that for me?
Until then, know that I’m looking out for you. Forever Yours”
He rereads his words a few times, making sure that he’s put it all out there before folds the letter up and makes his way back towards your cottage. He fixes the letter to the clothesline and heads back to his cabin. Kicking off his muddied boots, he crosses the floor to stoke the dying fire before he settles himself onto the small bed in the corner, slipping into his sleeping bag and zipping himself in for the night.
That night images of you flash before his eyes like a movie once again, your beautiful face smiling down at him, laughing in the sunshine and then suddenly the scene shifts. He’s standing across the room from you, you’ve got your back too him and his heart races as he begins to cross the vast empty space between you. He picks up his pace, his breath coming in pants as he pumps his arms and runs faster. He starts to panic when he realizes that the distance between you isn’t closing. He feels tears prick his eyes as clenches his jaw, as he stops in place and tries to call your name. No sound leaves his mouth, panic seizes him once more as he tries to scream. The scene changes again and suddenly he’s right behind you, he reaches out to touch your shoulder. You turn slowly and as his eyes land on your face, it morphs into a face he’s tried to forget. Of the ones that promised to love him, of the ones that he’d trusted foolishly in his childhood innocence.
“Hello August,” the woman murmurs smiling sickeningly at him.
Ice slips down his spine as he’s suddenly a child again, he looks up at the woman and the words that have taunted him for years start to circle around him.
Difficult,
damaged,
undisciplined,
needy,
rude….
They dance around him as the woman’s face flickers through the foster moms that gave up on him. The words dance closer and closer, little august crouches down and tries to scream as he covers his head the shadows of his past overtaking him until he startles and sits up bolt straight in bed, sweat dripping from his brow as he tries to catch his breath. He clutches at the frame of the small bed, chest heaving as he counts backward from ten, slowly. When his breathing returns to normal, he leans forwards and runs a hand through his messy curls. He’d never told you about those days. The endless years of being jostled to home after home, only to be kicked back into the system until he aged out. Sure, it’d made him thick skinned and hungry to make himself into something, but he’d never truly let that little kid inside him heal. He’d never let himself get close to anyone before you, he’d simply used his looks to take pleasure when and however he wanted, trying to fill the void with anarchy and lust and anything else that struck his fancy. But he’d met you, in the parking lot of a farmer’s market no less and before he’d even been able to process the words coming out of his mouth, he was asking you on a date and letting you get closer than anyone else ever had.
He couldn’t lose you too. That was something he was sure he wouldn’t survive.
For the remainder of the night, August alluded sleep choosing rather to busy himself with tidying up the small space surrounding him in hopes of dispelling some of the anxious energy caught beneath his skin. As the sun began to rise, he fixed himself a small breakfast of dry cereal and a piece of jerky that he’d picked up on his drive here.
It wasn’t satisfying and his stomach still protested as he guzzled a bottle of water. Raking his eyes over the small stack of supplies in the corner, he knew he was getting low and that he’d need to make a supply run soon as much as he was dreading it. A yawn captured his features, his face stinging slightly at the stretch as his eyes closed and his mouth widened with a large sigh. Today making his normal trip to your cottage and decided instead to go once more under the cover of darkness to check for your reply.
After a dreamless sleep, August woke up with the sinking sun, stretching in his cot before sliding legs over the edge and lacing up his boots in preparation of his trek across the forest floor towards your land.
Grabbing the small lantern and his lighter, he makes sure that he’s got his knife on him and makes his way out into the rapidly darkening woods. He knows he’ll reach your property before it’s too dark for him to see his hand in front of his face, he picks his way carefully and quickly along his now well beaten path. Finding his spot easily, he crouches down perfectly concealed by the a swath of thick pine branches. As his eyes adjust, he spies another pink envelope pinned to the line along with some of your sheets, the days were growing warmer and warmer and he smiles at the thought of you at the line, humming a song as you pin the sheets in place before fastening his letter in its place.
Once the last light goes out in your cottage, he slips from between the branches and hurries across the lawn. He swipes the later from the clothespin and brings it up to his nose to inhale your scent before tucking it into his jacket. He turns to leave and bumps something with his foot, causing a rattle.
He looks down quickly and finds a small basket on the ground, kneeling he peels back the soft towel that is draped over the top to reveal a selection of fresh food and a small note that reads, “For my specter.”
August heart lurches at the kindness that you exude even now and suddenly he aches to repay it. Turning to the line, he eyes the sheets and moves silently towards your hose to wash his hands before drying them on his thighs and returning to the line. Methodically he folds the crisp, fragrant sheets and places them in your abandoned wicker laundry basket that you must have forgotten by the line. Satisfied and smiling to himself, he gathers his gift and heads back through the trees, kneeling once to light his lantern and then making his way back into the night.
Once in the cabin, he starts a small fire then settles at the table to thoroughly examen the contents of the picnic basket that you’d left him and opens your letter.
“To the specter, my specter,
I’m sorry that someone you loved made you think that it was hard to love you. Whether or not you believe it you are worthy of love. I know that should you be my lover and should he return to me that I would love him as fiercely as I did the day that he left me, no matter what has transpired between now and then, because he was my whole soul and maybe I didn’t make that clear enough to him. But that is the truth, my Auggie was my soul, my whole being, my anchor in this world and I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve been adrift without him. Should he return I would welcome him with open arms, perhaps, you would be able to pass along the message my dear specter whoever you are. If you see my Auggie, give him my love and tell him that his angel wants him home again.
- (y/n/n)”
August was unaware that he was crying until a tear fell to your letter, making the ink run as it trickled down the corner of the note. She still loved him, what a fool he had been to doubt his angel.
