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Love Letters


by Tunnel Baby

Vincent took the book from his shelf and settled into his bed for the night. The past two evenings with Catherine had been magical. He knew how much she loved the sonnets, so he thought he might find one of the great classic love letters to send to her. There were a few that he had marked, finding even better ones as he went along. Then, he came across a letter from Gustave Flaubert to Louise Colet. The letter itself nearly had him drop the book to floor, but the thought of sending it to Catherine almost had him send it sailing out the entrance!

I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy.
I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint and die.
I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such transports . . .
When you are old, I want you to recall those few hours, I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them.

He quickly closed the book and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Thinking that he should leave the search for tomorrow, he set the book aside and scooted beneath the covers. Vincent immediately buried his mind in thoughts about the repairs to be done the next day, anything but the images that letter had created. Soon, he was fast asleep.


Catherine was lost in another difficult case, when one of the helpers came up to her desk.


“I have another sandwich for you, Miss Chandler!” he said with a wink and a smile.


“Thank you!”


This was just what she needed to lift her spirits. Even if the note wasn’t from Vincent, it was from his world. She would take anything that drew her closer to him. When she saw the familiar handwriting, her heart soared. Little did she know just how high her soul was about to take flight . . . .



 Vincent tapped on her balcony doors that night, anxious to see her. He had felt a cacophony of emotions through their bond. Before he could give it another thought, she was there. Something was different. She didn’t run into his arms the way she normally did. Instead, she stood in the doorway leaning against the frame in a very exotic night gown. It was like none he’d ever seen and his mouth watered. Instantly, he shut those feelings down and tried not to panic. Catherine took a very slow and deliberate step toward him with a new look in her eye. Her hand traveled very sensuously down his arm as she spoke in a low, sultry voice.

 “I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy.”

 Vincent was stunned and immobilized. This couldn’t be real! Too shocked to enter into his normal state of panic, his jaw only dropped as he gasped, his eyes widening. Catherine caressed his cheek and put her hand on his chest, gently pushing him to sit back in the chair behind him.

 “I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint and die.” Her eyes drifted shut and their lips nearly touched when Vincent jumped out of the way.

 “Catherine! What are you doing!?”

 “It’s the letter you sent to me, Vincent.”

 He backed away from her until he was stopped by a brick wall. “Catherine, there must be some mistake . . .”

“Mistake? Don’t you remember? I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such transports . . .”


She had him pinned against the wall and her hand slipped below his belt. With that touch, Vincent cried out in panic, mortification, and terrified pleasure.


Vincent sat up quickly in his bed, jolted from his sleep as he cried out. Gasping for air, he put his hands to his face to calm himself. After catching his breath, he took the book and quickly put it away. Opening another, he wrote down a sonnet with much satisfaction. Nodding with a sigh of relief, he concluded that Shakespeare truly did know everything and that perhaps he shouldn’t stray from what worked. Smiling and pressing a kiss to the paper, he returned to his bed. A peaceful sleep washed over him.


Catherine’s eyes welled up with tears at the beauty in this man, her love. She read the sonnet over and over again.

Sonnet 27

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body's work's expired:
For then my thoughts, from far where I abide,
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see
Save that my soul's imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee and for myself no quiet find.


Catherine sank into his embrace as soon as she could get through the door. Breathing him in, she sighed happily.

“Thank you for the sonnet. I loved it.”


Vincent smiled, holding her closer. “I’m glad.”


“I’ve missed you so much today. That was just what I needed.”


“I missed you as well.”


The two of them stayed in each other’s arms as the sonnets were read into the night. In that time, each of them marveled at how precious their love was and how contented they were to just be together. At the same time, they looked into each other’s eyes where the unspoken words of love were exchanged. Catherine let her eyes drift shut, and she softly pressed her lips to his for just a moment. Laying her head back on his shoulder, she sighed with a smile. Vincent laid his cheek on top of her head, and continued with the next sonnet.