Description
She wrote those letters for her future, former, and current selves. A letter for each as much as possible- every day was proven to be much too difficult to follow. Those letters were precious diamonds, manuscript with the power to see right into her heart and soul, the very beginning of where her words are formed. He didn't mean to read them. He didn't even know her. But now? He practically WAS her. He knew how she did everything. The way her toes curled into the soles of her shoes when she was trying to concentrate, how she sang in the shower melodically, sounding like a solo angel without her chorus, without recognition of anyone other than herself, how when she looked in the mirror, she once saw a confident, beautiful young lady, but now she can barely will herself to take a sideways glance. When he finds out her dark secret she refrained from stating, what could he do? He couldn't risk her finding out that he had read her letters. But, he had to do something... But what?
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