Shubman is someone who likes showing his love through actions and big gestures while his husband is totally the opposite one. One who doesn't like big speeches or big gestures to show his love.
But today was a bit different. The sunlight spilled over the desk as the dust particles danced in the sun. Birds were singing love songs for their partners. The street outside the window had old couples walking hand in hand while the old man joked and his lady giggled like a teenager. The air had the scent of love.
Ishan smiled as if he could smell the love. And honestly who would not?. He sat down on the bench. The sunshine that spilled over the desk was now making Ishan look like a warm sun.
He had decided that today for the last time he would do a small gesture for shubman. LETTERS. Ishan had always heard his husband talking about receiving love letters and how vintage it is, so that was it.
There was paper that was made to look old by pouring coffee with the red ink placed beside.
He started writing occasionally, dipping the pen in the bottle of red ink pouring his heart out on that piece of paper, writing down all his unspoken feelings from the past few years. All the feelings getting wrapped into words which were gonna be expressed by writing.
As he continued writing, deeply lost in the thought of his partner Ishan noticed the red ink got emptied out. He just chuckled as he looked at his letter of 5 pages and the 6th page filled half way. He groaned as Ishan got up picking up the bloody knife that was resting aside.
"I hate draining out his blood every 5 minutes," he said, reaching towards a cold body.
