There were at least a dozen now. Now and again, this feeling seized him to write a letter he knew he’d never deliver. Or maybe he would someday. Nothing with Lea was ever predictable and no one knew that better than Ïsa.
He smiled at the thought.
You’ll always be immortal to me, Lea. Obnoxious, yes, but I could never let myself forget you.
“Ïsaaaa!” The subject of his letter whined from the street, too restless to wait in the house. “You told me we gotta go, and now I’m waiting for you? Geez.”
“Be patient,” he advised from the open window.
You are as much a part of my day as the rising sun and phases of the moon. I love you, Lea.
Ïsa slid the pen into the cup on his desk, standing as he folded the paper in thirds. He could hear Lea half-singing, half-humming while he sealed the letter in an envelope. Placing it in a drawer with the others, Ïsa called down. “I’ll be down soon.”
“About time!” He waited for Ïsa with his trademark grin ready the moment he set foot outside. “Thought I was going to celebrate my birthday out here.”
Ïsa chuckled. “I can still go back inside.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Lea teased, throwing his arm around Ïsa’s shoulders and leading him down the street.