Bonus – Love Letter from Past My Defenses

This was a love letter published originally as part of Emily Shotwell’s love letter blog challenge.

It’s from Dane of “Past My Defenses” to Vanessa. No spoilers…as long as you assume they end up together at the end of a romance.

 

From: Dane < Dane@GPForestrySer.org>

Sent: Tuesday, February 23, 2016 10:34 PM

To: Vanessa@HillConstruction.js

Subject: Read this naked in bed

Honey,

These classes are killing me. They had to be in Portland. Too far to drive back to you every night but just close enough that I want to anyway. The woman next to me during the morning meeting had an allergic reaction to some walnuts in the muffins and I swear to you that I got nostalgic over the Benadryl I handed her. And then I lectured her on having a proper emergency allergy kit. I pulled out the spare EpiPen I carry for you and then just stared at it longingly…missing you. Well I’m sure they all think I’m a kinky bastard now. Or some sort of adrenaline fiend.

Next year, I’m bringing you. A week is too long. I’m sure I can continue my education just as well with you here. As it is my education is stagnating without you here. I’m so distracted that between the EpiPen stroking, the fact that I carry around an arsenal of allergy meds, and my dazed expression, I’m sure there’ll be a random drug screening in my future.

How is the pack doing? Are you doing patrols this week? One of the guys I used to work with in California is here and when I first arrived, he said I looked exhausted. He joked that you must be an animal in bed. He didn’t get why I found that so funny. I told him you’re an animal in and out of bed but he just nodded. He didn’t get it. I’d forgotten what it’s like to hang out with normal folk and not just Lycans. They seem very boring suddenly. They all want to talk about sports and TV and I want to brag up that you took down a bear last week and gloat about how you’re going into heat soon.

I should probably say something sexy since I told you to read this naked in bed. Wait, who am I kidding? You read that and put on extra clothes. You’ve covered that gorgeous body of yours with that three wolf moon shirt you got me as a joke and a pair of ratty sweats. Even your striped wool socks went on. I know they did. You said “oh hell no” and you’re reading this on the couch with your feet up. Are you reading this during commercials during the Late Show? Baby, you’re so cruel. I’m naked while I’m typing this. Well, except for my socks. My feet were cold. Okay. I’ve taken off my socks.

I’d started to think that the one time we were apart before wasn’t as bad as I was remembering it. That one time you were staying with Jordan couldn’t possibly have felt like a part of me was missing. I was wrong. It feels worse. This whole scent-matched mates thing has some definite hard edges when we’re apart. Maybe I’ll get out your EpiPen again and stroke it some more. No. That’s creepy. Especially now that I’m naked. Maybe I should put my socks back on.

I don’t know how you’re handling this. You sounded just fine when I called you at lunch. I swear you found my whining amusing. It’s not funny. Well, it’s pathetic but that’s not the same thing. You sounded busy earlier. Maybe that’s why I hate this so much. There’s too much boring downtime to spend wishing you were here.

You know that crap about absence making the heart grow fonder? Well, I’m so fond of you already that I don’t think it could get any stronger. This just feels like a hole inside of me. An aching hole. I hate this. That’s what this absence has taught me—I’m a wreck without you. I can’t stop thinking about you. Sometimes I think I’ll go mad with wanting you so much. I put in earplugs last night even though you weren’t snoring beside me and I still couldn’t sleep. My body knows you’re not here where you belong. My bed feels cold and empty and I hate this.

Oh hell there’s someone at the door. I should probably throw on a robe. Maybe they’ll just go away. No, they’re knocking more.

And they just broke off to have a sneezing fit and swear at someone wearing too much perfume.

I’ve never heard a more beautiful racket in my life.

It looks like I should have them replace out these down pillows. I’ll send this and you can read it while we eat room service.

Yours,

Dane

Copyright © 2016 by Wendy Sparrow