Asami was sitting on the small desk in their room, tapping the pen against the wooden surface and trying to figure out what to say. She swore honesty on this letter, but she also didn't want to worry her mother more than she had already; it was quite a battle. She took a deep breath and decided to just let the pen guide her through her words, the ones she plastered on ink on the smooth surface in elegant swirls and dots.
Querida madre,
[Dear mother,]
In regards to your last letter, I wanted to say that I am indeed okay. Life in Morocco is hard, yes, but I've been focusing mostly on my job as a nurse here in Santa Fé Hospital. Although, I must confess, this isn't the work I want. Now don't worry, it isn't getting shot in the front lines either. Mamá, if only you could see the machinery here! You know my fascination for all these. There's nothing else I rather work on than that. Alas, and for your calm, I've remained a nurse until I can fully dedicate myself to those works. However, as much as I want to join the forces in that aspect, the much needed work here in the hospital forbids me to do so. El Rif has been nothing but violent towards our soldiers. Everyday new ones come in, and the sight is quite difficult to digest. The fact that blood made me sick and now I see it as a common thing, must give you a brief idea of what I've seen. Again, worry not, for I am where I'm supposed to be...partly.
Now, I know your question was a humored one; coming from my uninterest in Mako, as well. Are the soldiers quite captivating? I must confess a few have caught my eye, but only one has stood out. I will tell you more about this soldier hopefully in the next letter, but sadly you must know that my interests don't matter anymore; even though you tell me otherwise. Hopefully, we will go to Madrid soon. I miss that city, but I miss you more.
Please, let me know how father is doing. Hopefully I get to see you and him soon.
Lots of love and blessings,
Asami S.
She let out a small sigh and looked over to the lit candle that was melting the pieces of wax on the melting spoon. She folded the letter and slid it into the envelope, pouring melted wax over the seam. Reaching and taking the stamp that was on the desk, she pressed it over the wax and removed it to reveal her family seal under it. She rolled her eyes every time she did this, finding the practice so unnecessary. Still, at her mother's request in one of her letters, she used it more frequently. She wrote both her and her mother's addresses on the envelope and looked down at her wristwatch. Getting up from her table and picking up the envelope, she walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs of the hospital. She put the letter in the mail bin and quickly made her way outside and down the stairs. As if on cue, a military car rolled in and Korra smiled at her from the inside.
"I was hoping we could go somewhere else, instead of our usual spot." She told Asami, as she opened the door and got in the passenger's seat. Korra leaned in and quickly pecked her cheek, leaning back and starting the car.
"Where are you taking me?" The black haired beauty asked her, with a small blush on her cheeks.
"Oh come on, duchess. Don't ruin my surprise!" Korra chuckled and laughed loudly when she saw Asami's face. She knew to call her that to piss her off slightly but, of course, Asami couldn't stay mad at her long. Korra started the drive that lasted quite a few hours, but Asami didn't mind. It's not like she was looking forward to going back to the hospital anytime soon.
Most of the ride was silent, except for Asami's constant questioning of their soon location. Blue sapphires would steal glances at her way every two or so minutes. The emerald eyed girl loved the attention of the soldier's deep blue eyes and dreaded whenever Korra had to look back at the road. They soon reached Tetuán and Asami wondered why Korra kept driving, not even considering stopping.
YOU ARE READING
The Rebellion Within
Historical FictionThe news of the Rif Wars shook Spain to their core from 1920 to 1927. Every single person in the peninsula had their eyes in Morocco, especially the young engineer Asami Sotomayor. Drowned by her father's wishes to run and work in his new building...