A Letter to Nathan Attford -- April 13th 1891

Cassius, still in only drawers and a dress shirt, sits on their floor. Not their shack's floor, but on the silly pink carpeting of their Ladybones' rooms. Legs crossed, a candle and a cup of tea sit on the little coffee table (they have recently bought), and in their hands are the pen and a sheaf of the stationary Scarlet gave them in housewarming. They feel miserable. But the sort of miserable that isn't as dire as it is before one has had their tea. Setting things down, taking another sip, they write what they feel they have to.


 Nathan,

I think feel should apologise for running off last night. There are things that I do not think I can, or would wish to explain. [scribble] And that I would rather think no more on. Perhaps I should, but I do not wish to. [a splot of ink from the pen being left down] Not right now. [another, larger blob] I need to be in a decent shape for this [...splot] party after all. I may still need dragging as it is.

Thank-you, Nathan.

---L● Cassius

Realising as they fold the letter, that they have the candle going, but the sealing wax is in the other room, they hurry to get it before the stub goes out. They use both their signet rings for this--a double seal. They will drop it off through his mail slot once they have gotten dressed.

A Letter to Narciso -- April 13th 1891

After tea, and a now sealed letter to Nathan, Cassius goes about getting cleaned and dressed; the pot of hot water just about boiled now. And after a long, long, bath, Cassius feels even less miserable. Still awful, but the urge to spend the whole day back in bed is mostly gone. Wrapping the towel about themself like a cape-making a note to invest in a robe of some sort...and carpet slippers-they plunk-down on the pale carpeting again. The cool wood feels good on their forehead as they lean upon it, but it warms by the time their hair is mostly dry. With another bout of sighing they feel this settles what they have to do. More paper, the towel going to the floor, the matches waiting to light a fresh candle. They scrawl, in small but shaky handwriting:

 Narciso, [a large blot]

'Assumptions are unwise.' That is one of the key foundations for detectives. [splot] It scares me, you must know. To have to make them at times, and so I ask. [blob] It is silly, it must be silly, but I have to ask. Mr. Gylden and me I once had a talk, about how both of us needed to be explicitly told, by that person, whether a person is our friend or not. And you are so patient with me in this, and so I must ask about this Party. Shall I still expect it? Wear the outfit I had notion to when it was first suggested? Just as I could not [scribble] assume you were in the least my friend, [a large blot] even with wassailing, so I am terrified to make an assumption here.

[a fold where they first folded it over, unevenly. Then unfolding it to add more.]

Something that is also key is that there should be no assumptions in that I adore you.

I love you.

I hope that this will be proof, if you are needing of proof. Of a statement of a fact as I often am. [a large smear from not being able to stop their hand shaking]

[starting a new line because of the smear] I dream sometimes I dream sometimes that I am a knight. A knight filled with duty, and filled with loneliness. A knight that has to make choices, but [scribble scribble scribble] I do not know if it is one of those ''Neath Dreams' I have heard mentioned, but when I came to London I was exactly as I am in these dreams. I have told you that I am happy, and that I am healed because of you. Because of my other companions, but I would not have opened showed my feathers if it was not for your talking, and drinking, and just you being a surprising bother. Thank-you.

---Your L****

 

They light the candle, giving it a few moments before melting their sealing wax with it. Expression completely impassive as they drip it onto the flap. Another double seal. Cassius leaves it, blowing out the candle, as they go to get dressed. 

 

---

 

 

Standing in The Bazaar, they grab an Urchin and send her into the shop to leave the letter on the counter. They maybe have had the courage to write it, or more the fear to write it, but they cannot enter that bookshop today. With that done, and the child paid, Cassius heads back to Spite. They have a certain pushy seamstress to visit after all.