Fic -- He Writes
I bring fic! Took me a few days to actually get this how I wanted it. A short little ficlet, again, but I'm happy with it.

Xander, post-series. Let's just, uh, pretend he never went to Africa and is instead in Cleavland. AU, perhaps?

Believe it's pretty self-explanatory.

Title: He Writes
Author: redundantly
Word Count: 235
Rating: G
Summary: Xander attempts to let go. Post-series.

***

He writes letters to her. Long letters, short letters, letters on the back greasy diner napkins, letters written in sloppy, slanted scrip.

He tells her about his dreams, about the frog he saw while walking to work. When he's in a melancholy mood, he tells her about his fears, about the heaviness in his heart that he doesn't remember arriving and that he can't define. He tells her about the man down the hall that wears his ex-wife's bathrobe. He tells her how the grocer's wife wears dark sunglasses, even inside, and sometimes walks with a limp.

He tells her about the rain, how it smells just like his air freshener and he hates that. He tells her that his shoes have a hole in them, and that one day, he thinks he'd like to visit Asia. Sometimes, he even writes about how he thinks of going to trade school to expand his horizons -- he just needs someone to tell him it's not too late.

He mentions the view from his bedroom; the way the houses part to give him just a hint of mountains and that when the sun sets, his room looks golden. Heavenly.

He writes letters to her. He writes and writes, hand cramping, ink staining everything, and when he's done, he rips them up to throw in the river.

He likes to imagine the fish read things she never will.

***

Still need to beef up my user pics. Trying to keep up with active participation.