Chapter 3
The next morning, Sam came downstairs to find an envelope propped against the kettle.
The front of it said simply
Sam Higgins
in dark blue ink, in what Sam recognised as Winston's handwriting.
He stopped breathing.
He simply held the envelope in his hand for long moments.
It was pale lilac in colour and square in shape, with what felt like cardstock inside, stiff and heavy.
Finally, with quick, mechanical movements, he filled the kettle, set it to boil, and sat down at the table to open the letter.
It said, on expensive cream-coloured cardstock,
Sam,
I write this letter in order to tell you that I may love you.
I'm not sure, because I have never been in love before, and the feeling does not seem to be quantifiable.
However, I am unaccountably fond of your smiles, even when you are not smiling at me; your jam in the fridge, even though I do not eat jam; and your jumpers, even though they are extremely unflattering.
These are all signs of a great affection.
It began the moment I saw you and realised that you'd shot the cab driver.
No one has ever done that for me before.
Matters escalated when you were taken by the Ghost Orchid and I was desperate to get you back.
I'd never felt that way before, and I felt that way again, when Gerardo took you.
You told me to run, and I should have run, because that was the logical thing to do.
But when it comes to you, it appears I cannot be logical, and worse still, I do not mind.
You have bettered my life in a thousand ways since you appeared.
You stop me from putting too many holes in the walls and being too cruel.
You buy milk and beans.
You hoover and do the washing-up.
You remind me that not everyone in the world is utterly boring and uninteresting.
You are an audience for my violin.
You tell me that I am brilliant, and you believe that I am capable of being a hero, even though I am manifestly not, and I find that I do not wish to disappoint you.
I would like to buy you new jumpers.
I would like to compose for you a violin sonata.
I would like to take you to Elarion.
I would even like to kiss you.
And when I retire to Oryndel to keep bees, I would like for you to come with me.
Very sincerely yours,
Winston
Winston set a mug of coffee down in front of him.
Sam hadn't even noticed the kettle's beep.
"Do you like it?" Winston took the seat across from Sam, much as he had a week ago, when he'd taken notes on how to write a love letter.
He looked very composed for someone who'd just confessed his feelings via expensive stationery, although his fingers were restless.
Sam swallowed and put down the letter.
"Everyone likes love letters."
"Yes, but." Winston took a quick swallow of his own tea, surely burning himself in the process.
"What about this one?"
"I like it," said Sam.
"I like it very much." And then, "Come over
here
, you--you--I can't believe--" He all but dragged Winston over the table to kiss him, and finally they both shuffled to the side in order to avoid upsetting any chairs or cups of coffee.
Winston was an awkward, clumsy kisser, who obviously had no idea what to do with his hands, but Sam just kept kissing and kissing him anyway, one hand fisted in his shirt and the other bending Winston's head towards him.
When he finally stopped, it was to say, "Why didn't you
say something?
"
"I did," said Winston, dazed and baffled, with his hair even more ruffled than usual; it was a good look on him.
"I wrote you a letter and everything."
"That wasn't--" Sam thudded his forehead against Winston's collarbone and fought to keep down a hysterical giggle.
"People don't normally ask the object of affection for advice on their own love letter."
"Well, there wasn't anyone else to ask." Winston, at least, seemed to know how to hug; his arms were very comfortable around Sam's shoulders.
"And why shouldn't they?
Surely the object of affection would know what they like."
"Christ," said Sam.
"I thought you were writing that letter for someone else."
Winston sounded genuinely curious.
"But who else would there be?"
Sam couldn't resist giggling that time, and after a moment, Winston joined him.