*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧. Valentine Lotus was a rare girl; wickedly smart and constantly sweet. That is, unless, you get on her bad side, which James Potter just so happens to do when he dumps a canister of red paint on the wrong person.
~
In which James Pott...
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(ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 29: ʟᴇғᴛ ᴏɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ)
May 16th, 1975
Dear James,
Hey. It's me, Valentine. We haven't spoken in a while, I suppose that my fault. Actually, it's kind of yours. But whatever.
What you did to Snape wasn't a smart or kind thing to do. It was mean. Cruel, even. I don't like Severus, not many do, but just because you don't like people doesn't mean you should make their life living hell.
But I don't judge people based off their worst mistakes.
Just don't make another one like that... then I will.
The point is, James, that I miss you, okay? I really miss you. So send me a letter back, and perhaps we could plan something to hang out over the summer!
With much love,
Valentine Lotus
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
June 22nd, 1975
Dear James,
It's Valentine... again.
I sent a letter to you not long ago, though I'm not sure you got it or not, due to your lack of response.
I'm sending this to double check I got the correct address? If not, whoever is getting this letter and isn't James Potter, sorry?
But if it is James Potter, write me back! I've spoken to everyone else other than you! What's up with that?
Anyways, I hope you're having a nice break! I surely did. My Dad finally gave me the job of working downstairs in the kitchen and now I get paid!
And I know you're probably having a great time with Sirius living with you, despite the unfortunate events that led up to it.
Write me back or else!
Xoxo,
Valentine Lotus
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
July 5th, 1975
Dear Assface,
You're an assface. Next time I see you, be prepared for taste of your own medicine. I won't hesitate to levicorpus your arse above the Black Lake and take you for a little swim.
I'll stay mad unless you can come up with an elaborate excuse of you having broken every bone in your hand, therefore stoping you from writing me back. If that's not what happened, you can choke on a gargoyles left tit, you arse.
Honestly though, it doesn't feel right. I get that we went through a rough patch and got angry at each other, but it doesn't feel right we aren't speaking.
At this point if you don't write me back then I won't bother anymore. That means no more talking to you. That's how pissed I am.
Pissed. Pissed. Pissed. Redundancy? I only do that when I'm pissed.
