 5. You can't use the word “said” in your post. ½ of Lauralie | Koala | The being in Ern's pocket | Baby Smurf | Prouf member of The Flock
Amrita could only smile at his punny quip. A watery smile, weaker than poorly brewed tea, but a smile nonetheless. How could she even address the man who hadn't even known her name until fifteen minutes ago? What could she possibly say? How could she even think about explaining herself?
"They were never meant to be sent," was, at last, the response. Amrita looked into her mug in a desperate effort not to make eye contact, and took a sip of tea once the steam started irritating her eyes. Scalding hot tea, but that was the least of her worries. She never did think before she jumped, nor blow on her tea before she drank it.
"I was undercover when we met, and I-" her voice cracked, but she took a breath and steeled herself. She would not cry. "I knew I had to leave you for your own safety. For mine too. Lots of people want me dead, y'know." So he wouldn't really be an exception if he did. She'd be a little sad about it, though. If he offed her. Or wanted to.
"I wrote them to give myself some kind of false closure, it was a stress-release thing. And then, last week, my mother let herself in and found them and figured that I'd been procrastinating -- no idea where she'd get that idea -- and sent them for me to the post office. I was mad, and then I hoped that you'd moved, or that you would look at them, laugh, and throw them away."
Whatever it was, him being here was not on her list of likely scenarios, and she didn't quite know how to feel about that just yet. Could they start over? She'd like a re-do, in which she never wrote those letters. Or in which she'd burned them. Or vanished them. Or something.
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