It is so strange, to have you here in front of me as I write this. You continue to slumber, with Hawk and I attending to what few needs you have. I can see your beautiful face whenever I like, feel your warm skin, and yet you are absent.
I miss you terribly.
Life in the village continues on; I am still fulfilling my duties although I have been developing worrisome side effects. I am in constant pain unless I am in the company of my own ilk, and I find myself struggling to connect emotionally with people. I enjoy hurting them very much, and although I recognise that this is unseemly behaviour I cannot seem to stop.
I have, however, remained faithful to you. My membrum virile is quite useless without you near. All the ecstasy I have induced in others touches me not at all.
But Tim, my dearest darling, what weighs heavier on me is a growing suspicion that our place here is no safer than our place at the manor. In fact, I suspect that we may be in more danger here. The Oracles speak in riddles but in their prophecies I hear such dire warnings. Twice now I have been reminded of my own death and I cannot help but think this bodes ill for me, and perhaps for us all. I must investigate further, although it may have negative repercussions. In some ways I am glad for your slumber; were you awake your morals might compel you to stop me.
I love you, Tim. If something happens to me before you wake, please know that my devotion to you has never wavered. I live for the day I will see your eyes open once more.
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timeasmymeasure
a letter | during Tim's sleepytime
Date: 2025-09-24 10:53 pm (UTC)It is so strange, to have you here in front of me as I write this. You continue to slumber, with Hawk and I attending to what few needs you have. I can see your beautiful face whenever I like, feel your warm skin, and yet you are absent.
I miss you terribly.
Life in the village continues on; I am still fulfilling my duties although I have been developing worrisome side effects. I am in constant pain unless I am in the company of my own ilk, and I find myself struggling to connect emotionally with people. I enjoy hurting them very much, and although I recognise that this is unseemly behaviour I cannot seem to stop.
I have, however, remained faithful to you. My membrum virile is quite useless without you near. All the ecstasy I have induced in others touches me not at all.
But Tim, my dearest darling, what weighs heavier on me is a growing suspicion that our place here is no safer than our place at the manor. In fact, I suspect that we may be in more danger here. The Oracles speak in riddles but in their prophecies I hear such dire warnings. Twice now I have been reminded of my own death and I cannot help but think this bodes ill for me, and perhaps for us all. I must investigate further, although it may have negative repercussions. In some ways I am glad for your slumber; were you awake your morals might compel you to stop me.
I love you, Tim. If something happens to me before you wake, please know that my devotion to you has never wavered. I live for the day I will see your eyes open once more.
Yours eternally,
Harry Goodsir