I always felt silly, writing to you. Leaving the letter folded on your desk for your return. Or if you were present, waiting for you to step out so I could leave it unnoticed.
[She was shy, then. Afraid to speak openly about her feelings in such a way when they pertained to him.]
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I only wish for you to care for me. And I will care for you.
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I do care for you, most ardently.
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[He would never write such words if he didn't love and care for her.]
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[His hand drifts along her belly, roving gently before holding her tight again.]
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[Whoops. Sound less surprised, Jill.]
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[He nuzzles against her. Tries to forgive her skepticism.]
I would not use it at all if I could.
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[She quite likes being able to chat easily, without needing to leave her room.]
But knowing your dislike for it... I think I really must write to you. Like I once did.
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[She was shy, then. Afraid to speak openly about her feelings in such a way when they pertained to him.]
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[Founder knows he never sat at it much.]
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I find it easier to talk to you now. Yet I have so much to write to you, too.
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[Aside for the part where he feels like vomiting while writing it.]
Perhaps my handwriting will even improve…
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[Maybe by then. Jill laughs quietly.]
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Too daunting a thought, but I will do my best.
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[For everyone, even if he thinks otherwise.]
I'll make sure to put that in letter for you.
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[He could not imagine being this relaxed an hour ago.]
We should sleep, but I’m glad it’s in your arms.
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[Generally speaking, and in her arms. It's easy to close her eyes--and if sleep doesn't claim her quickly, she'll have a letter to think of writing.]