So these couple fics are like the same idea. I saw these letters on Tumblr, they're called Open When letters and the idea is you give them to your lover and each letter says something different. like "Open when you miss me," "open when you're feeling sad," stuff like that.
That's the picture I saw
So these couple of fics are people reading letters that their lovers gave them. I only wrote letters from my people's point of view cause i didn't think I could write yours well enough although I'd love to read some from your people bwahaha ><
So I hope you like these. There are three so far.
Xavier/Prentiss: Open When... You're Feeling Jealous
Prentiss sat on the mattress, fuming as he thought of the way Elvis and Xavier were downstairs flirting. In HIS home! The nerve of that goddamned ginger.
He tried to calm himself but nothing seemed to be working. And then, from some dark corner of his mind, he pulled forth a memory of a present Xavier had given him a while ago. A box of letters.
He remembered hiding them in the closet so he wouldn't be tempted to read them all at once. He stood, making his way to the closet and retrieving the box from underneath some clothes that had fallen from their hangers before returning to his spot on the bed.
He began to skim through the letters. The few he'd read before had made him happy. There had to be something here for his situation.
"Open when you're feeling happy."
Definitely NOT the case.
"Open when I'm being stupid."
That one could work.
"Open when you're feeling jealous."
Perfect.
He laid back with the letter in hand. It was in a bright blue envelope with Xavier's sloppy scrawl on the front. He opened it with care, wanting to save the envelope when he was finished. He slowly pulled out the letter and began to read.
"So you're feeling jealous? I'll tell you right now, you shouldn't be, because you are the only thing that matters in my life. But that's not going to help you stop being jealous, is it?
Is it Elvis? Who am I kidding, it's always Elvis."
Prentiss fought off a smirk. Xavier knew him too well.
"I don't know why you're always getting jealous of him. Is it because I loved him first? I wish you were actually here to answer me but I'm just going to assume it is. If that's the case, then baby, I might have loved him first but I love you most. I love you more than I've ever loved anything. I may have been with other people first but you are all that matters to me anymore. Know that, okay? Tell you what. If it's really bothering you, wherever I am with Elvis that's making you jealous, come get me, okay? Come get me and show me the envelope to this letter and I'll stop immediately. Even if I don't realize I'm doing it, I'll pay attention to you. Go on, do it."
And as all the other letters, it was signed with a small heart and the words, "I'll love you forever."
Prentiss smiled softly, slipping the letter gently back into its envelope before standing up and making his way downstairs. He stood at the base of the staircase for a moment, just watching Xavier as he laughed, his arm around Elvis's shoulders.
He looked so happy. He didn't want to ruin it, really...
But Xavier was his. He had to let Elvis know this. So he stepped forward, smiling as Xavier looked towards him. He flashed the blue envelope and it took Xavier only a few seconds to read the front of it and, like he'd said in the letter, he pulled away from Elvis immediately, moving to scoop Prentiss into his arms.
Eric/Christophe: Open When... You Want To Take A Walk Down Memory Lane
Christophe glanced at the box of letters in front of him and sighed. When Eric had first given him this gift, he'd thought it was extremely stupid. He thought he'd open them for fun sometimes, but he never thought there would come a time when he'd actually need them.
But after nearly three months away from his lover, he found that he was extremely wrong. He'd been at Livius's house for the past three months and he didn't mind that, of course, but he was missing Eric dearly. So he had pulled out the box and currently was flipping through the letters trying to find the right one.
Finally he saw one that seemed to suit his needs.
"Open when you want to take a walk down memory lane."
Yes, that was what he wanted. There was one that read "Open when you're missing me." But he didn't want some sappy letter that would make him miss the man even more. He wanted to read about good times they had shared.
So he tore open the scarlet colored envelope and began to read.
"Feeling nostalgic, are we?" He could practically hear Eric's tone in his head, light and playful while sarcastic at the same time. And while sometimes it made him want to smack the boy, he grinned at it now. "Well here's a memory for you. Do you remember the first time we met? I'm sure you do, but do you remember everything about it? Because I do." Christophe paused, trying to think back to that night. Of course he remembered meeting the man who turned out to be one of the most important things in his life. He remembered being in that bar, Eric approaching him, he even remembered some of the things they'd said. But nothing more than that. What more details could there be?
Eric was about to tell him.
"I remember sitting at a table, all alone. I hated going out to clubs but I made myself do it that night. I told myself I had to get out more or I would end up alone the rest of my life. I'm really glad I did go out that night but I'm getting ahead of myself. I can't ruin the ending, can I? So there I was, by myself, wondering if I should just go home after all. And then, this man walked in. I had just looked up at the sound of the door opening, but when I saw this guy, I couldn't look away. I couldn't tell what it was about him. He was handsome, definitely, but he wasn't the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. He had long ratty brown hair that looked like it could use a good washing. And God, don't even get me started on his clothes. His jeans were so caked with mud and dirt that I thought they were brown until I got a closer look. They were torn and tattered, just like his shirt. I watched as he took a seat at the bar and ordered himself a beer and then some whiskey. I noticed that he had a shovel with him. A shovel. I thought 'How weird is that? Who takes a shovel to a bar?'
He had scars. A lot of them. I wondered how he got them. Was he in a war? Did he have a bad temper and was a terrible fighter? I wanted to know now. I needed to know.
He looked so tired. Physically and mentally. He looked like he needed a nap but also like he was just done with everything and everyone. He looked like he had seen so many things that no one should have to see.
I just wanted to know WHO he was. What made him tick? What were his hopes, his dreams? What did he want to do with his life? What did he love to do? I suddenly was flooded with all these questions and concerns about this stranger. And I didn't even know his name.
He didn't look like he would stay long and I knew if I let him get away I'd never forget him. So I got up and I took a seat next to him. I knew I'd made the first step. Here he was, right beside me. All I had to do was say something.
He smelled like smoke. I normally hated smokers. But it seemed like none of my previous rules about what I looked for in a guy mattered here. The smell even seemed to be luring me in.
I don't remember what exactly went through my mind in that moment as I tried to scramble for something witty and cute to say, because it was just a jumble. I hope that explains why my first words to you were, "Tough night?"
Out of all the hundreds of thousands of words in the English language that I could have strung together to form some stunning sentence that made you fall for me right then and there. And I chose only two that were possibly the lamest.
However I might add that your response was just as lame. Then again, you weren't the one trying to impress someone.
"Tough life." You responded. You didn't even look at me.
I remember my heart pounded in my chest. God, you didn't even look at me. Was I that insignificant? My hopes fell as I tried to think of a way to rebound. What could I say to make myself seem interesting enough for you to spare me just a glance. I was panicking.
And then you spoke again.
"Do you have something you want? You don't look threatening?" And you looked at me for the first time.
I'll never forget that look, Christophe. Your eyes were so goddamn big and brown. And that was the moment I fell. And I still haven't gotten back up.
You looked almost angry at me for speaking and I panicked again. I thought about trying to flirt or be smooth but that's just not me. So I tried being honest instead.
"I... I don't need anything. You just look interesting. And I could definitely use something interesting in my life right now." Yet another astounding response from yours truly.
I was trying to be honest, trying to let you glimpse into who I really was. Maybe you'd take pity on me. You appeared to be so adventurous and mysterious and here I was, some kid who's biggest adventure was sleeping without a nightlight.
But my words had the opposite effect, appearing to offend you.
"I'm not some toy for you to play with and then throw out." You had said. "I have more important things to worry about than being entertaining."
Oh god, I blew it. I knew I had ruined any chances of you liking me or sharing your fascinating life with me. With those two sentences, you turned me into a stammering mess. You have no clue the thoughts that ran through my mind in the next few seconds.
"Oh god, he hates me."
"He thinks I'm stupid."
"You're never going to find anyone."
"Eric, stop being so stupid."
"Say something cool."
"He thinks you're weird now."
And despite the urges from my subconscious to be clever, all that came out was:
"O-Of course you do. I didn't mean to... Sorry." I'm a master with words, as you could probably tell by this point.
"You are a very sorry person." Came your response. "Relax."
It wasn't until then that I even noticed your accent. I had been so scared and panicked the whole time. I loved it immediately.
"I know. I don't really go out often." I attempted a smile as my insides fluttered. I was so nervous. I was trying to explain to you why I was acting so socially retarded, hoping you would understand. And it seemed like you did.
"I don't either." You had said. "Who are you? I am Christophe."
Christophe.
I took in the name, vowing never to forget it. I put it together with the shovel, the dog tags, the accent, the greasy hair, the stale smell of cigarette smoke in the air around us and created an image in my mind of everything that symbolized you. And it's still there. When I hear your name that is what comes to me.
The shovel you never let go.
The dog tags that are constantly around your neck.
The accent that makes my heart beat faster when it speaks my name.
The hair that I'd run my fingers through any day no matter how much I crave to wash it.
The smell of smoke that follows wherever you go.
In my mind, these things are you. I wonder sometimes what you think of when you hear my name.
Hopefully it's something good."
Christophe let out a content sigh as he sat the letter down, finding that he was grinning softly. It was odd hearing what Eric thought of him and yet he had adored every second of it.
Elvis/Xavier: Open When... It's Our Wedding Night!
Elvis took a deep breath as he looked down at the box of letters in front of him. Xavier had given them to him when they were still dating. Back when they were happy and nothing mattered but each other.
But now it had been a year since their break up and Elvis found that his life had no meaning anymore. He hated it. He hated that he’d gotten into drugs in the first place. But now that Xavier was gone, he sure as hell wasn’t trying to stop. The drugs were the only thing that made him feel alive.
He just needed Xavier so badly… maybe these letters could help. He’d never even read most of them.
And he knew this one he would never read.
“Open when it’s our wedding night!”
It made his heart ache to think that Xavier had really thought they would make it that far. Xavier had thought that they were forever. Honestly, Elvis had believed that too.
How wrong they were.
The envelope was a light pink, decorated with small hearts and pictures that Xavier had cut out of wedding dresses and tuxedos.
Elvis stared at it for nearly ten minutes before deciding to open it. And then, it took him another twenty to open it without tearing anything.
Finally, he had the piece of paper in his hands and began to read.
“Wow, it’s our wedding night! That’s pretty fucking amazing, huh? I can’t believe we made it this far. But I always knew we would. Elvis, you’re the most important thing in the world to me. I never want to be with anyone else. I don’t even want to think about anyone else. You’re all I need. If I could never see another person again but you I know I’d be fine. You’re all that matters, you know that?
So, if it’s our wedding night, why are you reading this instead of having amazing sex with me? You better hope we’ve already had it and I’m asleep or something next to you while you’re reading this.”
Elvis nearly cringed at that thought. God, how he wished Xavier could be next to him.
“I can’t wait until I marry you one day, Elvis. I know that if you’re reading this it’s already happened but I’m still here in the past dreaming, don’t ruin it for me!
So I don’t want to make this too long. You’re probably sick of me enough already today. But I want to let you know that without you, my life has no meaning. Really. You’re the only reason I wake up in the mornings. I’m so glad about all that we’ve shared together. I couldn’t be more honored to be your first time and I want you to know that I truly adore you. I cherish each and every moment we spend together and I never want them to end. I love you Elvis Malone.”
Elvis growled as he sat the letter down before his tears could soak the paper. He wanted to keep it in perfect condition.
Xavier did not need him like that anymore. Prentiss was the one he woke up in the mornings for now.
He fisted away some tears quickly before rummaging through the box and finding another letter that read;
“Open when you’re missing me.”
Well that was accurate.
He tore open the envelope on this one and began to read.
“Aw, you’re missing me? That’s cute! Well if you’re missing me you could always just call me dipshit. I hope that if you’re reading this letter it doesn’t mean I’m not around to call. I hope I didn’t die or something… that would suck. Well if I’m not dead, call me. If I am or I’m not around or something, just keep reading, darling.”
Elvis ran the thought of calling Xavier through his mind and decided to keep reading.
“Well, if you’re missing me, just know that I love you, okay? And if you’re missing me, I’m probably missing you too baby. As I’m writing this, I think I saw you like an hour ago and I miss you already. I can close my eyes and all I see is your face. All I hear is your laugh. I can smell your cologne and feel your touch on my skin. Elvis, you’re missed constantly. Trust me. All I want to do the second you leave is bring you back and feel you close to me. I want to run my fingers through your thick red hair and press my lips to that adorable bit of stubble you’re trying to grow. I want to lay in bed with you and cuddle. I want to listen to your favorite music all night while I hold you to my chest and listen to the sound of your breathing. I just want you close to me, Elvis. That’s how I feel every second you’re gone. So if you’re missing me, know that even if I’m not there, my thoughts are always with you.”
Elvis cursed. That hadn’t helped at all. It’d only made him miss Xavier more, the bastard.
But he knew nothing that letter had said could have possibly lessened the pain in his chest. He missed Xavier far too much for that.
