Riley’s Letter Exchange
Riley’s Letter Exchange
Dear Riley,
It’s been three days since you walked so confidently through the doors of that facility, and my heart hasn’t beat the same since. I miss you so much, but I am immensely proud of you for doing this.
You’re strong. So damned strong, Ri, and I can’t wait to tell you that to your face again.
Speaking of faces, please enjoy this photo I took of Creed pouting while staring at a picture of you. He’s such an animal sometimes, but his bleeding heart gets worn right on his sleeve when it comes to me and you.
I’ve got my first therapy appointment coming up at the end of this week as well. I figured I’m not as okay as I pretend to be if I’m waking up from nightmares and spacing out, thinking I’m back in that room.
Sometimes, it’s the darkness and the quiet of the night. But the other day, it was because I walked in on Creed shaving his face; his straight razor set me off. It took over an hour to come out of it, and that’s when I decided that I need help, too.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get all gloomy. I promised I’d speak up, so I’m keeping my promise.
But enough of that.
Tell me about how everything is going! How are you feeling? Wilder seemed like a great guy to have as a therapist. I hope the staff is treating you well, because if not, I’ll come down there and kick their asses.
I miss you, my sweet Riley. I’ll see you soon!
Xoxo
—Collins
July 25
Dear Collins,
Never ever apologize for speaking up, Snow. I might not be right by your side, but I’m always here to listen, help, and support you in good times, as well as on the hard days. I’m proud of you, baby. Always.
Creed pouting is a rare sighting, indeed, but it’s fucking adorable, so kudos on capturing that moment! I’ll cherish it forever and totally not use it as blackmail in the future.
You asked how therapy is going? It sucks.
I mean it’s good, but it sucks. Wilder feels pretty confident that I won’t need surgery.
Just some consistent exercises and some adaptive gear to help me with my grip as I go.
Right now, I have to have these ridiculous pool noodles wrapped around tiny objects like spoons, pencils, and yep…
drum sticks. The shaking and trembling persists, but I’m learning to push past the frustration and just keep working toward my goal.
Coming home. Seeing your face again.
Kissing you. Touching you. Loving you.
The one upside to this place is the jukebox in the cafeteria. It’s chock full of all your favorites, Snow. So of course, I played some Bowie when it was my turn to choose a song.
I miss you, too, baby.
Just three more weeks and I’m homebound.
Xo—
Riley
July 25
Dear Creed,
Do my eyes deceive me, or did Collins actually catch you pouting? I’ve got it tacked to my motivation board in my room, so don’t go thinking it’s spoiling your “bad boy” persona. You’re still a badass rockstar to me.
But speaking of, you should be back in the studio by now. I hope you’re able to make some progress on the new album. Right now, I’m holding my drum sticks with fucking pool noodles and can’t hold a beat with how bad my wrist tremors are, but Wilder says I’m making progress.
Please don’t feel like you have to wait on me to get some drums into the songs. Really. I don’t want to be the factor that holds you back, so please, do whatever you have to do.
I miss you.
Xx
—Riley
P.S. If it makes you feel better, you look cute when you pout.
I might regret those words because I’ve never flirted with Creed before, but it felt right. So I slide the selfie that I took this morning inside of it, seal the envelope, and drop it in the mailbox at the front office.
August 1
Dear Riley,
Are you teasing me?? You better watch it, or I’ll bend you right over my fucking knee and show you exactly what’ll happen to your sweet, freckled ass when you taunt my macho-manliness.
It’s one thing for Collins to walk around here looking like a wet dream and not be able to touch her until the doc gives the all-clear for her, but now I’ve got your sleepy, sexy selfies AND you’re teasing me?
Riley, baby, I’m only so strong, and don’t think I won’t break that no visitor policy if you keep that up.
But on a different note—HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?! Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…there’s no way in hell I’ll ever replace you in this band. You’re so fucking strong, and I know you’ll find yourself back behind your drum set when you come back home.
We all miss you, Ri. Blair,Bear, and Ayla included. We’ve been able to record some vocals and the melody, but the drums? That’s you, boo.
Collins joins us every day and watches. She keeps your stool warm on the tough days when she misses you. Here she is this morning, matter of fact. I had to steal her camera because she looks like a fucking angel with the sun glowing around her while she sits there writing you her next letter.
She won’t let me see the Polaroid. Said it was a surprise since she took two of them, saying it was basically the same pic for each of us.
She blushed like crazy when I peeked over her shoulder to read it.
I didn’t see anything, but it’s totally got some naughty words in there if she’s that flustered over it.
Buckle up, baby, I think she’ll be coming in hot with her next letter. ;)
See you soon, Ri.
Xo
—Creed
I’ve never hated the fact that I can’t make a tight fist more than I do right fucking now. Because goddamn. My dick is aching behind my boxers as I lay in this uncomfortable bed in my private room at the facility.
It’s August 10th. Eleven days to go. But it’s been almost ten days since Creed’s letter forewarned me, because California had a rare, heavy rainstorm that caused flash flooding and a mudslide that blocked the main road to the facility.
Life sucked for those ten days, but Wilder was there to keep me distracted with therapy and exercises. While the trembling in my hand has incrementally lessened, my grip is still shit.
Which doesn’t do anything to help me now. I do my best to palm and press into my growing hard-on as I stare at the Polaroid attached to the letter that Collins sent. I need some kind of friction to ease the ache my girl has caused.
While her scars remain, her bruising is completely gone and she’s never looked more breathtaking.
Literally. I feel like I can’t breathe because Collins is wearing that fucking bra and panty set that she picked out at the mall months ago.
The sheer set with black embroidered snakes wrapped around each breast.
She’s laying on a bed with her hair fanned around her, a mix of new baby blue and sea green strands peeking through her white blonde hair. I sit up a little straighter when I realize she’s in my bed.
“Fuuuuck, Snow,” I groan, biting my lip and banging my head against the headboard. “What are you doing to me, baby?”
I read her words again and again, and almost regret it because now I’m as turned on as I am flooded with emotion.
August 4
Riley,
I had a dream last night. Like, an actual dream. Not a nightmare. My therapist had given me a journal to write everything down, including my dreams, then left it up to me whether I choose to burn my words to set them free, or to share them and let them go.
Well, I’m sharing my words with you, but I’m definitely not letting them go.
Because I dreamt about you, Riley Benjamin.
Us.
It felt like a memory with the way I got to touch you, but it was us as we are now. Everything felt so real as you let me explore your body. The way we reacquainted ourselves with one another and gained a new intimacy with touch along the way.
I miss the way your body fits so perfectly with mine, Ri. The way you fill me so completely that when we’re connected, my world narrows down to just the two of us. Creed has always had half of my heart and soul, but I don't think you understand that you are the sole owner of the other half.
Be a good boy for me, and push yourself through therapy, baby. Because I can’t wait for you to come home to us and for you to say yes to exploring us again, because you? You’re everything I need. You’re everything he needs.
I’ll see you soon!
Xoxo
—Collins
I open Creed’s letter next and can’t help but laugh at his desperation.
Aug. 10
Riley…Pookie…
Can you PUH-LEASE tell me what was in your letter? Collins is being all cagey about it and I’m feeling left out.
Xo—
Creed
Creed,
Cute nickname, but no.
What’re you gonna do about it, huh?
Xo
—Pookie
I finish my short response to him on his own letter and seal it in an envelope before moving on to respond to my girl. My eyes linger on the picture of her and her words to me for a moment longer before I write:
Snow, baby,
You’re gonna end me with that last letter. I cannot stop staring at it. At you. If you knew my attraction to you back when I first met you, it’s only increased tenfold.
You take every bit of air from my lungs and hold it captive. But I’d rather lead a life where you are my oxygen than to try and breathe without you.
I dream of you, too, you know. I feel as if our story had just begun before it was threatened to be torn apart.
I was terrified that what we survived would give us no choice other than to change our minds, but this time without you has only solidified how much I need you.
Crave you and your touch. You and Creed are my anchors in this chaotic world.
Every night I fall asleep, I dream of deepening that bond between us. *All* of us. So, every morning I wake up just as hard as I am scared that it’s all a dream, but you two remind me again and again that we are real.
I can’t wait to get the hell out of here because I’m dying to get to know your body all over again. To discover new parts of myself that I never knew existed. To do things I never thought I’d do with one person, let alone two.
But I’m so fucking ready.
See you soon, baby.
Love,
Riley