( a collaboration between jcdeci + makeboyscry )
' THE LETTER '
Dear Donald,
I've been thinking about this for a while now and I feel like it's best if I just tell you instead of holding it in. It's not exactly the easiest thing for me to do and I hope understand that I'm only doing this because I love you. Please don't hate me. . .
You are like a beam of light, gracing everyone with your presence and bringing joy along with you. It's hard not to love you or desire to be near you. I know you have dreams and goals, and I also know you have many women who are looking to be a part of your life. Yet, here I am, selfish and holding you back from an opportunity to find true love. It isn't fair and that is why we must end this. Believe me, I would love to be your wife one day but we both know that's just unrealistic. I'm in Iraq and you're in New York. That's more than a long distance relationship and you deserve to find happiness. For someone to hold you and protect you. For someone to love you unconditionally and be your eyes and ears when you're too caught up to pay attention—and we both know you get sidetracked easily. You deserve more than I can offer. It pains me more than you think to write this letter to you, being that I'm losing someone who I see as my first and only love. But I love you far too much to keep you from exploring life as you should, with or without me. If you get this, just know that this is the last letter you'll receive from me. I love you more than life itself. Be safe and continue to pursue your dreams. I'm so proud of you, stinker.
Love always,
[Y/N]
' CURRENTLY '
56. That's how many times he had read the letter. Each time was just as hard to get through as the first. He felt like reading it more than once would make a pill such as heartbreak easier to swallow, but here he was-- 55 rereads later and making absolutely no progress. 55 re-reads and he still had yet to break his record of 173 from the second to last letter he received from her.
The time-gaps between getting one letter from her and waiting for the next had grown wider than the Atlantic Ocean, which left plenty of time for him to read. . . and read again. . . and again. . . and again.
This didn't keep him from writing his weekly letters to [Y/N] though. He knew she wanted the best for him. He knew that she wanted him to live his life, but he found it impossible when she was such a key part in what it meant to live his life. Yet, he had to find a way. She was rooting for him, and he couldn't let her down. She believed in all of his musical talents and dreamed of him sitting amongst stars almost as often as he did. So, he spent a lot of time perfecting his craft and getting a demo together for himself, his brother Dalvin, and two other boys that he met not too long ago. Together, they were Jodeci, and the music was magic. The music was something he knew [Y/N] would love, and when he wasn't sucked into a world of piano chords and harmonies, he was writing to, writing for, and writing about [Y/N].
He'd even cut out time to call her parents since he wasn't able to physically visit most of the time.
Every Sunday afternoon, Donald would make a phone call to [Y/N]'s parents' home. He'd check in with them and see if they were doing all right because after all, [Y/N]'s family might as well have been his own blood, but he mainly wanted to know how [Y/N] was holding up overseas. They'd give him the same phrases every week: She's fine. She misses everyone. She'll be home soon.
Even though part of him felt like they were saying these things just to say them, it was better to get some generic messages than nothing at all. . . especially since these generic messages grew to mean the world to him.
Once he had made it back in Charolette for a family visit, his parents insisted that [Y/N]'s parents joined them all for dinner, which he was sort of apprehensive about, though he wouldn't admit it.
"Come on, sweetie!", [Y/N]'s mother said to her father as she helped him up the step of the porch and [Y/N] followed them both, hiding behind her parents with butterflies forming in the pit of her stomach as she mind became flooded with memories of the times they had shared with one another.
She hadn't seen him in two years and wasn't quite sure what he had even looked like these days, only having the visual of the Polaroid picture he had sent her back in '90 to rely on.
Honestly, she wasn't even sure how this would all pan out since the last time she had been in contact with him, it was to end their long-time relationship. Her mind wandered, questioning whether or not he had a girlfriend and if she was exactly ready to come to terms with the fact that they may never get back together.
Though she wanted what was best for him, she couldn't help but to feel as though she was what was best due to the fact that he was the only man she had ever loved, and she feared that there would never be another after him.
The distance between them is what made her come to the decision of letting him go and she knew it was selfish but now that she was back, she wanted him all to herself again. She longed to pick up where that had left off before she had went off to serve their country. However, it wasn't a guarantee that things were going to work out as she had wished.
The front door opened, pulling her from her thoughts as her eyes landed on his mother who wore a bright smile and greeted her parents with excitement before she had realized [Y/N] was standing there. Her eyes grew wide as [Y/N] smiled and stepped closer to her, maneuvering between her parents who stood in front of the door, embracing [Y/N] and kissing her temple as she spoke into her ear, "He's going to be so happy to see you." [Y/N]'s anxiety slowly began to vanish once they were led into the familiar home of the DeGrates, the smell of 'soul food' immediately filling her nostrils causing her mouth to water. They didn't really receive real food on the field and she was eager to have some after so long. The furniture was still the same as well as they family portraits that hung along the walls of the hallway that led them toward the rest of the two-story home.
"Oh! Look at that!", she could hear Dalvin blurt out before he had finally come into view as they walked into the living room, seeing him standing in front of the couch with a controller in his hand and his eyes focused on the television screen. He and Derek took turns playing Golden Axe II while Donald trash-talked their skills as he often did while waiting for his opportunity to play.
She laughed, shaking her head at the sight and becoming flooded with joy as memories of the countless times she had beat the three of them at Dynasty Wars back in '89 began to come to mind.
"Boys, we have company! Come say hello", his mother instructed as she stood in beside [Y/N]'s parents whom were still in front of her, keeping her out of view.
Donald rose from the couch while his brothers paused their video game. He smiled at the sight of [Y/N]'s parents, seeing as though it'd been a while since he last saw them.
Seeing them also made him feel better about not being able to see [Y/N] especially since she looked so much like her mother. He shook hands with her father, nodding and smiling while Dalvin and Derek finally began to make their way over.
"It's been a while, son. You're looking well," [Y/N]'s father nodded while Donald passed his greetings onto [Y/N]'s mother, which consisted of a warm, tight hug.
"Oh, please. This boy looks like he ain't been eating nothin' but hopes and dreams up there in New York," his mother remarked, making everyone laugh— including [Y/N].
His ears instantly perked up at the sound while his eyes darted towards the distinctive laugh. "[Y/N]?" he whispered as their eyes met.
"But that's nothing a nice home cooked meal can't fix," his mother carried on, her voice eventually fading out as his eyes fixed themselves onto [Y/N].
He felt his limbs go numb while his stomach dropped and his heart instantly began speeding up its pace. His arms fell from around her mother as he stared at the love of his life.
"Holy shit," he said in disbelief, blinking several times.
"Donald," his mother scolded him for his language.
His eyes never diverted from [Y/N] as she chewed at her bottom lip out of habit when she grew nervous. Her heart was practically thumping against her sternum at this point, feeling as if it was about to pop out of her chest at any given moment. She wasn't too sure what to do but had definitely felt the urge to kiss him and tell him how much she had missed him. However, she remained still, waiting for him to give her some type of sign that would hint that he felt the same.
"Don't just stand there," Dalvin patted his back, breaking the silence that filled the room.
Both of their families were watching the two lovebirds, anticipating the happy reunion that should've been taking place. Instead, Donald was just staring at [Y/N] as if he didn't know what else to do.
"I don't think I can move," he admitted, everyone but him erupting in laughter shortly after.
[Y/N] laughed along with them, deciding that maybe it would be best just to make the first move and keep it friendly as she began to step toward him, hesitant while slowly raising her arms midway once she was directly in front of him and easing them around his torso to hug him. She had gotten a whift of his cologne—the very cologne she had bought him for his 15th birthday—causing her to smile as she rested her chin against his collarbone since that was as far as she could reach due to how tall he was, "Hey, stinker."
He couldn't fight the grin that was spreading onto his face, even if he wanted to. His arms found their way around her as he tried to find the words to say.
He dreamt of this moment every other night, for the last two years. Every time they'd meet in his dreams, he'd sweep her off of her feet and say things that would come straight out of one of those romance movies she liked so much. They would pick up right where they left off before she left.
Now that the moment was happening, he had fallen victim to his own awkwardness. He felt like he was a freshman in high school all over again, constantly at a loss for words as he stared into his best friend's eyes.
The only thing he could get out was a "what's up?" with a crackled voice and a goofy chuckle.
Dalvin shook his head at the sight of his older brother's cooler than cool façade crumbling in a matter of seconds while Derek snickered.
Donald pulled [Y/N] closer, beginning to squeeze her to make sure she was real and that this very moment was real. He let his eyes close and his head rest against hers while his eyebrows furrowed a bit. He was fighting against tears that began to surface. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of an audience, but the longer he held her, the more inclined he was to do so. He took a moment to kiss her temple before finally picking a series of words to say.
"I missed you," he quietly admitted, hearing both of their mothers gush with 'awwww. that's so cute.'
With a knot forming in her throat, she felt the tears coming along as she heard those three words that she had been anticipating to hear since she had first boarded the plane to leave to Iraq. She had always wanted them to reunite before she had even left Charolette—for him to miss her and hold her close just as he was now. With Donald, she felt whole—like the void had been filled in a matter of minutes just by hearing his deep and soothing voice, or seeing his gummy smile. He was the key to happiness for her, and always has been. He was like sunlight peeking through leaves in a rainforest, providing life to the plants. A breath of fresh air, like hearing good news after only receiving the bad for so long. It wasn't easy being in Iraq and waiting for what seemed like months until she had actually received any mail but throughout it all, his letters remained consistent and that gave her a sense of hope. A sense of self. He kept her from losing her mind, bringing her back to reality and reminding her that she still had a life outside of the horrid encounters she had experienced during her time fighting in the war. And now, here she was, standing in front of her best friend, her first love—her everything. She sniffled as she closed her eyes, the tears she tried so hard to conceal escaping and falling onto her cheeks while she held him tight and choking out the words, "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that. . . I've missed you so much." She laughed at herself through her sobs, feeling embarrassed that she had been crying in the first place, "I'm such a wimp."
"You in the army, bein' all tough and serving our country and everything. If you're a wimp, then I must be—"
"Y'all are both wimps. Hurry this up because we want to have our little reunion with [Y/N] too," Dalvin interjected, speaking for himself and Derek.
Donald glared over at his little brother while [Y/N] tucked her bottom lip beneath her top lip, trying her best to hold in her laugh but a giggle had escaped anyhow. "Dalvin, let them have their moment, and go ahead and get washed up for dinner," the boys' mother instructed.
"Yeah, go and get washed up for dinner, Dal," Donald repeated teasingly while wiping his tears.
Dal rolled his eyes, shook his head, and made his way toward the bathroom while Derek went into the kitchen, where all of their parents were.
This left the two lovebirds alone for the first time in years. Donald instantly got butterflies at such a realization, and he tried to think of the last time they had some sort of privacy.
His arms eventually loosened up before he took a step back from [Y/N] to get a good look at her— not that he hadn't when he was staring only a few minutes ago. He noticed her tearful eyes and wet cheeks and took it upon himself to wipe them away.
"Look at us. . . Cryin' and shit, being wimps," he chuckled while she gazed into those hazel eyes she loved so much, smiling a little harder than intended causing her muscles in her cheeks to sting a bit.
His heart was full, knowing that she missed him just as much as he did her. No letter or lack of such compared to hearing her voice and hearing her words. To him, not even reading and re-reading the letters that were over two years old could hold up to the sound of her voice. It was music to his ears. It was magic to him.
He searched her face for several moments, wanting to pour out his heart— his everything to her. He wanted to kiss her and tell her he loved her more than he could ever say— more than he could ever put into a song, but he could always try. . .
but at the same time, he didn't know where he stood with her. He had all this love to give, and he always made it a point to give it in his weekly letters. However, he couldn't tell whether or not that love was reciprocated, especially after two years of no returned communication.
She felt like pudding under his intense gaze, able to tell he was just as deep in thought as she had been before sighing and placing her hands against his chest, moving them upward until her arms had snaked around his neck, "Look, I know things have been a strain over the past two years and. . . I just want you to know that my feelings for you haven't changed. . . Not even the slightest." She offered a reassuring grin as she continued, "If you're in a relationship then I'm totally okay with that. . .I won't be upset because I told you to move on with your life and it's not my place to interfere with what you have going on." Donald's face scrunched up briefly as she spoke and she rolled her eyes playfully with a smile, "Okay, okay. I would be jealous if you tell me someone else has taken my place but I'd still support you and whoever she might be. Always."
[Y/N] didn't want to accept the fact that he may have moved on but was willing to in order to remain in his life. She was willing to put her pride and feelings she had for him aside just to keep him around. That was how much she had loved him.
He chuckled lightly, finding her assumption that he was involved with anyone other than her amusing.
Sure, he attempted to move on, but once he realized that he was trying to find [Y/N] in every woman he met, he found the whole "dating" thing to be useless. He knew who he wanted, and there was absolutely no changing that. So, he occupied himself with writing, arranging, producing, and mixing music. It was a job that wasn't going to do itself. It was a job that he didn't want anyone else doing anyway, so that's where his focus went when it wasn't on [Y/N].
He reflected on the other things she said, like how her feelings haven't changed. Having her admit to such a thing honestly felt like a weight off of his shoulders. He was already grinning before, but hearing her reassuring words and seeing the same smile that got him through hell had him smiling as wide as the sky while his arms locked themselves around her waist.
"Who said I was in a relationship? Last I checked. . . we had a good thing going," he smirked, running his tongue over his lips lightly while pulling her a little bit closer toward him.
And just like that, the thought of losing intimacy with him had disappeared, relief coming over her as she sighed and blushed under his gaze, feeling a wave of chills rush down her spine once space between them was no longer existent, "Is that so?" With her bottom lip embedded between her teeth, she looked up at him flirtatiously before pushing her weight onto the tips of her toes to inch her face closer to his, "So what exactly are you saying, Donald?"
"I'm saying that if we still feel the same," he paused, starting to lose his train of thought as his eyes switched from her lips to her eyes and back.
"Why don't we start in the same place that we left?"
She couldn't help but smile as she nodded her head slowly and leaned forward until her lips were hovering over his, his cool breath hitting against her skin, "I like the sound of that."
He smiled broadly before finally leaning in to kiss the girl of his dreams. . . literally. The moment he'd been fantasizing about since the moment she left was finally reality, and it was more than surreal.
His palms began to sweat as his eyes fell closed. His heart pounded in his chest like drums as a rhythm was found within the kiss. All of the feelings that were stashed away just for [Y/N] were arising quickly— quicker than he had ever anticipated, and this kiss was all that was needed to prove it.
Without thinking, he deepened the kiss, all of his passion pouring into it. The only thing running through his head was "finally. finally. finally."
结束
THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO DO.
Thanks again for collaborating with me!
If you haven't already, check out makeboyscry 's
imagines series titled 'one shots'.
PEACE AND BLESSINGS OVA' YO
WHOOOOOLE DAY.