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Yearning for Our Unicity	By : LuluDreams Category: S through Z > YOU Views: 185 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: all characters belong just and only to the marvelous Caroline Kepnes, Netflix etc, I just own my sick ideas, lol

Chapter List
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Summary:
Bronte and Joe write a letter to each other, but not in a conventional way
Notes:
Setting: between 5x8 and 5x9, which means, yeahh.. established relationship again!
Prompt: Letters
WARNING: Extreme Fluff. This shot is super sappy.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text

No electricity, save for the one between us

Bronte’s POV

Probably one of these days you’re going to fire me.
I left Mooney's earlier today, again, telling you I wasn’t feeling very well.

Of course you, Mr. Concern, bought that and said you would take care of the bookstore.
So this little trick gave me a couple of hours more to organize everything.
You’re so gonna love tonight.

I’m very proud of what I did, I also managed to shut the power off, without making the apartment explode.

I hear the key turning into the lock and I know you’re home.

“Sweetheart, I closed the Mooney’s as soon as I could, I couldn’t wait to go home, checking on you…”

As you are speaking, you pause, because you noticed that the only lights illuminating the apartment are the candles I scattered everywhere.
So extremely romantic.

“What’s… what’s going on?” You wonder, puzzled and amused.

And you haven’t seen everything yet.
You haven’t seen me yet.
I guess it’s time to show up from the kitchen.

“Welcome back, Mr. Goldberg, I’m always so glad when you find the time to pay me a visit.”

“Mr. Goldberg?” You repeat, even more puzzled. "Why are you talking to me like that and wooooahhh! How are you dressed?”

I perfectly knew that you would love this typical Victorian, back and dark blue ocean dress, with an umbrella gown, damask and floral patterns, bell long sleeves, square neckline and an intertwined lace crochet collar.
I also gathered my hair in an elegant chignon to expose it better.

I walk to you, in order to hug you, but my main goal is to search for something in your pockets.

“Well, well, you definitely feel better.” You purr pleased, holding me tighter and I let you do it, until my research is done.

“What’s this funny thingummy, Mr. Goldberg? We don’t need it tonight.” I wave your mobile in front of you, before switching it off.

You’re still so confused you don’t even speak.

Let me make things clear for you.

I lean closer enough to whisper to your ear.

“In case you didn’t get it yet, Joe, tonight we get to live in the nineteenth century, just for one night… and if you go to the bathroom you’ll find something to get in the spirit.”

“Uh, I like it.” You smirk, following my instructions.

“Uh, I forgot, maybe you’d better keep the coat on; I’m lucky that this dress keeps me very warm.”

“Now that you made me notice, it seems colder here.” You mutter.

“Yeah, it happens when you shut the power down.” I confess.

“You what?”

“What kind of nineteenth century would it be then?”

“So, you really mean it: no electricity for tonight?”

“No electricity, save for the one between us.” I wink at you, which leads to you coming back to me for a short, but deep, passionate kiss.

Once you’re back, dressed in boots , those black Victorian trousers, wrapping your waist, the Victorian white shirt, the black vest and the damasked black and silver Victorian tuxedo, I really have to struggle a lot to keep playing my character.

Ladies in the nineteenth century used to be very moderate, while I’d like to do unspeakable things to you now.
You are also wearing the top hat.
The outfit must be warm enough, because you are not wearing the coat anymore.
To say that you are handsome is a dim understatement.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Flannery, I forgot my manners before!” You take off the hat, bend down and you even perform a hand-kissing, your mouth just skimming the back of my hand.

“You’re right in time, Mr. Goldberg, the dinner is ready.” I show you the way to the kitchen.

After all, the delivery guy arrived just when you were busy changing clothes.

You point at the pizzas on the table, still to open.

“That’s a very peculiar dinner, Miss Flannery, for sure I have never seen food trapped in boxes before.” You tease me.

It’s time to shortly get off the character again.

“Well, just one kind permission from the twenty-first century; after all you just couldn’t expect me to cook, let alone without electricity!” I make you laugh.

We enjoy the pizzas, and then I take you to the desk.

“Oohhh, things are becoming very interesting.” You approve, staring at the set with quill, inkwell and antique paper. “There’s even the sealing wax stamp kit.”

“Yeah, each of us has one with initials.” I make you grin. “Someone taught me that if I do something I have to go through it.”

“Well, I suppose it was someone very wise. I really love it, but your incredibly good taste never ceases astonishing me, Miss Flannery.”

“You’re making me blush, Mr. Goldberg. So, my plans for the night were to write each other a letter; also because sometimes I have very weird ideas about how the future could be.”

“Really? May I ask what upset you so badly?”

“I have a sort of feeling, almost like in the future people will stop writing letters to each other and they’ll end up communicating with odd little boxes they’ll always take around with them. No more curated handwriting, just all the same characters for everyone, so cold and impersonal!”

“My, oh my, this is a scary thought, indeed.” You put so much pathos in that that you even bring an open hand to your heart. “And yet I’m confident that I can provide an even more dreadful one.”

“I’d like to see you try, Mr. Goldberg.”

“Well, Miss Flannery, imagine if in the future people will give up reading a book physically, skimming through their pages, smelling their scent, enjoying the rough paper… only because they prefer another sort of weird little box, just a little bigger than the ones you imagined before, which can display not only all the pages of a book, but of countless books!”

“Please, Mr. Goldberg, stop; you’re freezing the blood in my poor veins!” I give my best dramatic acting, with the back of my hand against my forehead and my head slightly bent down.

“Oh no, Miss Flannery, just allow me to warm the blood in your poor veins.”

A second later, your hands are holding my waist tight, from behind, as you’re kissing my neck through the lace crochet collar, right before descending on my exposed skin.

And now my blood is boiling.

“Good Lord, Mr. Goldberg!” I part from you, before it’s too late.

“Pray forgive me, Miss Flannery, I was struggling against my ardour and I lost, miserably.”

“Your method to warm my blood proved to be very efficient; but we’d better concentrate on our letters to write, as long as the light of the candles allows us.” I stop our instincts in the bud.

You go to the desk and I go to the nighttable of the bed and we focus on the writing.

Geez, I’m grateful for two things: I have more than just one sheet of paper, but mostly you’re so engrossed in your writing that you can’t see me; because I took for granted that writing with the quill would be easy, instead I keep leaving smudges.
I gave in with my last attempt, after all the stain almost looks like a heart.
And then the most important thing is the content.
I poured my heart into this letter, thanking you for letting me enter in your life, for being a very important part of mine.
I thanked you for all the laughs together, but also for the tears, for the comfort, for the support, for the trust you have in me.
I told you about how I can’t wait for a new day to come, because it’s a day I’ll get to spend with you.
I’ve put so much stuff like that that I’m almost afraid it’s going to be too corny, as I close it, with an ivory-colored ‘L. F. ‘ seal.

I head towards the living room, only to find out you’re done, as well.

We exchange the letters, I take off the red ‘J.G.’ seal and I admire your handsome, elegant calligraphy.

Save for some post-its written in a hurry, this is the very first time you and I get to see each other’s handwriting.

And of course, your paper is flawless, without a single smudge.

About the things you wrote to me…
I’ve never made someone feel like this.
I’ve never felt something like this for anyone else.

I just burst out crying.

“Was it that bad?” You pretend to be disappointed.

“Oh, shut up!” I pull you closer for a kiss, among the tears.

“I loved your letter, too, Bronte Louise.” You murmur against my lips.

“I’ll treasure yours like a jewel, Joseph.”

I’m about to kiss you again, but you move away.

You frown at me.

“You know, usually I hate being called ‘Joseph’...”

“But?”

Because I sense that there’s a ‘but’.
Maybe also because you’re smiling the brightest smile possible.

“But it’s the first time I hear someone saying it with so much love.”

I smile, my fingers scratching your shoulders through the fabric of the jacket

“So, Mr. Goldberg, would you mind waging another battle against your ardour and lose it again?”

Before I can figure it out, you’ve lifted me up in your arms, despite my very bulky dress.

“Only if this time you won’t stop me, Miss Flannery!”

--

THE END
Notes:
At first these two were just supposed to write a letter to each other, present day.
Then ‘this’ Bronte suggested in my mind it would be nice doing something vintage, with quill and inkwell.
Then I really don’t know how all the other stuff happened, but it did, LOL.
Hope you liked it.

I really had fun writing all those characters suggested.

About Joe’s outfit, well, just picture him as a sort of Mr. Darcy (and, yeah, drooling is allowed)
About Bronte, here we go:

Although I guess I can blame this AI picture I found on reddit:

It would be nice to know your opinion, I accept even insults XD
See ya tomorrow.
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Yearning for Our Unicity

Summary:

Notes:

Chapter Text

Notes: