Assortment

Letters

Tim and Y/n regularly texted, called, and did all the things you would expect in a relationship that was most times long distance. Y/n's life stayed in one place, with her job at the local hospital in Los Angeles. She was a Labor and Delivery nurse, and often made a point to make sure each mother had a say in how they gave birth. Tim, on the other hand, was constantly on the move. His career consisted mostly of preforming at various music festivals and other parties. In an average week, he could be scheduled for anywhere from five to seven events. Despite how their lives differed, they loved each other deeply. 

A year into their relationship, Y/n had suggested something to strengthen their relationship in a way that most would consider outdated; by writing letters to each other when they were apart. Both being 'old souls', Tim and Y/n were charmed by the idea. 

August 12th, 2012-

Dear Tim,

I'm sure your job brings happiness, but you can't compete with what I did today. After about twenty-six hours of labor, I helped a woman give birth to triplets. Naturally! She did need an epidural, but who can blame her? She had two identical baby boys and a baby girl. They were a little bit premature, but that's the case with a lot of pregnancies with multiples. They'll only need to be in the NICU for a week, which sounds concerning, but it's very good odds compared to other preemies I've helped deliver. She'll be able to take them home in about ten days. 

I miss you dearly, you must know that. At night, I cuddle my pillow that still smells faintly like you. I cry sometimes. Think of where you are, what you might be doing. If you miss me too.

Do you miss my lips? The way I gently kiss you? I know I miss that.

I love you dearly, in ways that go beyond words, but extend into feelings that are difficult to describe. I have dreams about seeing you, touching you, talking to you about our future. I think about you at work sometimes, even. Between rounds on my patients and changing diapers of NICU babies, at lunch with my coworkers.

Naomi, my friend at work, says I need to find someone who's around more often, but I couldn't, I love you too much, Tim. She's still with Simon, and I still think he's no good for her, as he's about 15 years older, but you know why I don't like Simon.

That's all I can think of for now, I love you more than anything, Tim. I hope this letter finds you well.
All my love,
Y/n

August 22nd, 2012
Felix rested his hand on the table, envelope in his hands. "Mail," he said, tapping the envelope on the top of Tim's laptop. Tim looked up and took the envelope, muttering 'thanks' as he tore the edge. He stuck his finger in the space he'd ripped and slid his finger across, opening the envelope.

He pulled the piece of notebook paper out of the envelope, setting it to the side. He opened the letter and smiled as he read the letter, happy his girlfriend was doing well. He thought about what he wanted to say back to her, what he wanted to tell her. As he finished the letter, he reached for his own notebook.

It was a blue standard-ruled notebook, spiral ringed with perforated edges on pages for ease when tearing out pages. The notebook contained his various thoughts, ideas for songs, doodles, serious drawings, writings about his feelings. He hastily skimmed through it for a fresh blank page, his mind so focused on Y/n.

The air felt cold, stinging his finger all of a sudden. Small red stains appeared on the margin of a page, calling his attention to the cut on his finger. "Shit," he muttered, looking up for anything to catch the blood. "Felix, would you mind grabbing a band aid?" He asked, holding his finger in his other hand.

Felix rustled around before coming over with the box of Mickey Mouse band aids. "Paper cut," Tim elaborated as he took one from the box. He unpackaged it and slipped it over the cut, wrapping it tightly.