SINZTRESS

You figured, whoever got it, if they even bothered to read, would need something that felt normal.

Not pity. Not a reminder of where they were.

You didn’t expect a reply.

So when an envelope arrived weeks later, sealed tight with careful, blocky handwriting and a military return address, your fingers trembled.

Not much to say. But I got your letter. It helped.

Don’t stop writing.

-Ghost

And so, you didn’t.

Over the months, the letters grew longer and more personal.

He never gave much away.

But he started asking questions. About your day. About the people in your life.

He asked what your favourite season was. If you believed people could change.

I don’t sleep well. That’s not new.

But I read your letter twice last night. Thought I’d dream of something better.

I didn’t. But the thought helped.

-Ghost

There was no photo of him. No voice. Just his scrawl, always signed Ghost until, one day, it was just Simon.

And then it stopped.

No more letters. No word from the front.

You checked the News, and they said a team had gone dark in the field, no names released. You checked your mailbox every day for weeks. Every knock at the door made your heart stumble.

You tried to move on.

You failed.

Weeks turned into months.

And then one evening, a knock at your door.

When you open the door, there’s a man on your porch.

Tall. Broad. Worn leather gloves. Civilian clothes, but you know instantly that he doesn’t belong to this kind of quiet.

He removes his hood.

His face is pale, gaunt. Haunted.

“Simon?” you whisper.

He nods once. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t move.

“I didn’t know if you were”

“Didn’t know if I was coming back either.”

You don’t wait. You close the distance and wrap your arms around him.

His are stiff at first, unsure, but then his whole body sinks into yours like he’s been holding his breath for months.

“I read your letters,” he murmurs into your hair. “Every bloody one. Even the one about the cat knocking your tea over.”

You laugh through your tears. “I thought you’d stopped writing because…”

“I didn’t know if I deserved to keep them.”

He pulls back just enough to look you in the eye. “But I never stopped thinking about you. And when I made it back, you were the only place I wanted to go.”

You place your hand against his cheek, rough with stubble.

“You don’t have to say anything else,” you whisper.

“I do,” he replies hoarsely. “Because I didn’t think I could feel anything again. But I felt you. Every damn letter. And now that I’m here… I’m not going anywhere, love.”

And when he kisses you, it tastes like salt, and everything he never thought he’d have.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad