Summary: sweet Hanzo x reader fluff in which Hanzo writes you letters because he loves you and needs you to know it.
Word count: 534
Notes: first prize is my dream but as i dedicate this story to @starscloset (an inspiration to us all) the most I’m hoping for is that she likes it.
It figured that Hanzo would be the letter writing type. That he would have some of the most elegant handwriting you’d seen in your life. That he could weave words into such heartfelt sentences that you felt your breath catch and your heart skip the same way they did the first time, every time.
the letters you liked the best were the ones you received on missions, he always found a way to slip one into your bags. They were encouragement and praise. It helped to know that he believed in you and to know how he thought of you as strong and brave, and it made you eager to return to his side as soon as possible. On nights when you were apart it was always easier to sleep when you imagined Hanzo’s voice reciting his sweet words
You sometimes tease him on being such a romantic beneath so many layers of grumpiness, but you’d be damned if you said it couldn’t improve even your worst days when you returned to your room at the watch-point to find one of his notes on your pillow tucked carefully into an envelope and stamped with his family crest. Sometimes there would be a gift attached, nothing big, usually a flower, roses were most common, but you fondly remember once receiving a branch of cherry blossoms.
Some days it was hard to believe any of these paragraphs were about you at all, ‘surely my eyes don’t really “shine like the moon and stars” you thought as you re-read the newest note for the third time that night. It had to be an exaggeration to say that your lips were “as soft as the petals of a newly bloomed flower.” But when you questioned him about it he always assured you that he always meant it.
“To call you beautiful, my blossom, could never be a lie. At worst it is an understatement.” The elder Shimada said with a gentle smile.
“Flatterer” you muttered back, earning a laugh. His genuine laughter almost seemed rare and pleasant, there was little that could make you more proud than to make him truly laugh.
When you’ve finally gotten your fill of his writing for the night you put the note away in a box you’d set aside especially to protect the precious treasures. It was made from scented wood and gave a pleasant fragrance to the ever growing collection of paper and pressed flowers it held. You had always been sure to keep them all, from the early “anonymous” notes riddled with undertones of his self hatred, to the newer ones that that flowed with loving praise.
You lie down that night wondering if Hanzo would like to have a letter too. You might not be as poetic, and perhaps your penmanship wasn’t the best, but praise for the man you loved came easily. There were so many things to love about him that you were sure he’d deny, but secretly love to hear. With a smile on your face, you find yourself falling asleep as you begin to compose the first paragraph.
Perhaps you could also be the letter writing type.