Postcard || Sebastian Stan x Reader

august 10 2021 - part two

It's a gastropub, whatever that actually means named after the English writer, the red walls lined with the backs of wooden booths with a cosy fireplace in the middle of the room. Perfect for colder nights or as a shelter from the sting of snow in the winter. You think you'd come here once with Sebastian, the night a bit of a blur but you definitely remember his mouth landing at the edge of your lips when he leaned in to kiss you as you said your goodbyes. How his hand lingered at your waist even as he turned away to leave.

"Here you go." The barman hands you a postcard with a smile, studying your face as if to see if he recognised you. Eyes narrow and lips chewed by bored teeth.

"Thanks."

It's the Eiffel Tower this time, glowing orange against the midnight blue sky of the city, the lights reflected in the water. Slight ripples from a wind you can only imagine distorting its curves but the card may as well be blank, much more interested in what was on the other side. Ink slightly smudged from where he'd dragged the curl of his little finger over freshly written letters.

Bonjour

I visited the city of love when we spoke

Not really knowing what that word meant

We might not have a tower (it's overrated anyway)

But we do have an Arc(h)...

Au revoir

You're back in the afternoon sun when you call Sebastian, sun somewhere behind you and starting to fall towards the horizon of tall buildings and straight roads.

"You are so needy." He says as he answers the phone and you can hear the smile in his voice. The teasing.

"I have to go back on myself, you know that?" You've already started walking in the general direction. Knowing it's not that far from Seb's place but not somewhere you'd go. Always too busy.

"I do but that's a sign that you're going the right way."

"Washington Square Arch, right?"

"Guess you'll find out when you get there." You can imagine him shrug, pulling a stupid face even though you can't see him. Maybe even scrunch his nose when he's finished speaking.

"I'm really starting to hate you."

"I hope not."

"Okay, bye. Need my maps."

You follow the blue dotted lines as they take you to your destination, letting you know how busy it might be and the rating it had been given by all its past visitors. It takes you a little longer than you expect, the park filled with people and the air around you warm with their conversations. Metal barriers surround the arch's marble piers, the silver almost dirtying the white. Hoping to stop street artists from leaving their mark and political stances.

You're under it now, not entirely sure what to look for, studying the carvings as you'd not yet gotten the chance to see it in real life.

Your eyes follow the shape of the arch, ears filled with the splashing of the fountains as the waters dance for those sitting around it.

Then you see it, surprised it's still there but glad it hadn't been taken. It's tied to the metal of the fence, a perfect little circle punched into the corner of the card.

Romania printed over an image of a city you don't recognise.

Salut my Blue Jay,

And then I got to go home,

Except... For the first time it didn't really feel like it