( It's the first time that a different envelope arrives, with a different card — Luther almost does a double-take at the sight of it, missing the yellow bird that has meant 'Allison' for weeks now. But there's nobody else on this earth who might be writing to Luther Hargreeves, so he takes in the mail with the same spring in his step, hurrying off to read it in privacy.
And then once he does, the very first word trips him up.
One word. One simple, easy word that millions of people take for granted in their correspondence the world over, but which makes Luther have to set the card down and go for revolutions of restless pacing through the foyer, into the parlour, up to the second storey, down the hall, pausing in her empty bedroom doorway, circling around again, back down to the basement, then up the stairs again. He walks and paces and walks until he can banish that nervous energy, and he shakes out his hands like he's about to go square off and box an opponent, except the opponent this time is his nerves.
That one word. Dear. It undoes him. You've ruined me. )
Dear Allison,
I didn't know about stationery stores, no. We only had the Academy-branded stuff here, so I didn't even really think about the fact that people had a million varieties to choose from — although I like what you've chosen for yourself. I'd wondered what was up with the 'B'. What's your roommate's name?
I'm pretty sure Dad has some sealing sets, maybe I could sneak them out of his office sometime. Seal my letters with wax and feel like an old-timey pirate or something.
Your taste is good as ever. Shakespeare is a timeless choice: Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave / My heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty / According to my bond; no more nor less.
No new hobbies — not much changes here — although I've imported a Japanese model set with an orbiter and the Hubble Space Telescope, which I'm looking forward to building. I got a crick in my wrist signing a batch of signed photos for the fan club; can imagine you can relate.
no subject
And then once he does, the very first word trips him up.
One word. One simple, easy word that millions of people take for granted in their correspondence the world over, but which makes Luther have to set the card down and go for revolutions of restless pacing through the foyer, into the parlour, up to the second storey, down the hall, pausing in her empty bedroom doorway, circling around again, back down to the basement, then up the stairs again. He walks and paces and walks until he can banish that nervous energy, and he shakes out his hands like he's about to go square off and box an opponent, except the opponent this time is his nerves.
That one word. Dear.
It undoes him. You've ruined me. )
I didn't know about stationery stores, no. We only had the Academy-branded stuff here, so I didn't even really think about the fact that people had a million varieties to choose from — although I like what you've chosen for yourself. I'd wondered what was up with the 'B'. What's your roommate's name?
I'm pretty sure Dad has some sealing sets, maybe I could sneak them out of his office sometime. Seal my letters with wax and feel like an old-timey pirate or something.
Your taste is good as ever. Shakespeare is a timeless choice: Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave / My heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty / According to my bond; no more nor less.
No new hobbies — not much changes here — although I've imported a Japanese model set with an orbiter and the Hubble Space Telescope, which I'm looking forward to building. I got a crick in my wrist signing a batch of signed photos for the fan club; can imagine you can relate.
Have you been to any concerts out west?
- L.