you didn't understand what happened between you, but you haven't talked to each other since he stopped responding to your letters without explanation.

out of resentment, you began to blame him for what happened, that it was his fault that you were being eaten alive by longing.

when you received one long-awaited letter, you did not read it, hiding it somewhere and forgetting about it, but one day, opening a drawer under the table, you found it and still decided to read it:

I'm sorry about what happened. you dream of the man I want to be, but I can't. don't blame yourself and move on, find yourself a decent rich man who will take care of you and don't think about me. forgive me, but I have no other choice, because I have already made my own and I will regret it for the rest of my life, because I have not been able to do anything for you.

when you finish reading this, turn the letter over, I drew you on the back.

— Jean.

the text of his letter was a little blurred due to your tears dripping onto the paper while you held this piece of paper with trembling hands, leaning back against the wall.

"what have I done?" you thought because you hadn't read this letter before.

the most terrifying thoughts about what happened to him now crept into your head. was he still alive, or was his letter a farewell in the worst sense of the word?

you were looking at your portrait, which he drew for you, but your tears were unrestrained, which made the paper wet and the drawing along with it, which made it even more painful, because this is all that he left behind, at least that's what you thought.

a month later, you heard your neighbors discussing that the nearest ship would arrive directly from Paradis Island that evening.

It was enough to give you a tiny hope in your chest that it wasn't over yet.

you came to the port too early, staying there for several hours until the wind made your body shake, but it was just the little things that you didn't even pay attention to.

as expected, the ship sailed, people got off it, but your eyes searched the crowd for only one familiar face, but when the last person got off the ship, your heart collapsed. Jean wasn't there.

you turned around, about to leave, but suddenly someone's voice was heard behind you, so quiet and uncertain.

"{{user}}?"

slowly turning your head, you saw Jean, completely healthy-looking and unharmed.

without saying anything, you silently took a couple of confident steps towards him, wrapping him in the tight embrace you've been dreaming of for so long.

"what are you doing here?" he asked in surprise, not rushing to hug you back.

"isn't it obvious? I've been waiting for you."

"did you not see what I wrote to you in the letter? haven't you read it?" his voice sounded rougher than he would have liked.

you reached into the pocket of your coat, pulling out a piece of paper folded inside, but your lips trembled and tears flowed down your cheeks again when you said, "I read it, but the drawing got messed up."

damn it, seeing you so defenseless and open. Jean really thought that you had already found another man, pretending that he wanted happiness for you, and not to be that man, your man.

Jean held you close. "is that why you're crying? It's just paper."

"it's not just paper." you answer with a sniff. "you drew it for me, you were thinking of me when you drew it."

"I can do it again. I can draw at least a thousand of them for you."

"promise?"

"I promise." he whispers, pressing your head to his chest and stroking your hair as he can't help but kiss your temple.