Disclaimer: I don't own Harvest Moon.

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Boundaries

I knew he was in love with me. I have for a while now.

It hadn't taken much for me to figure it out, mostly because… Because… Well, because he was Shea. He didn't bother to hide that sudden sparkling in his eyes whenever I came to visit him in the jungle. A clashing shade of pink, subtle but visible, would appear on his cheeks, and he'd shamelessly smile the biggest grin I'd ever seen on a human.

"Chelsea," his voice would soften when he said my name, almost a breathless whisper. As if I was the greatest person to ever exist.

Having no experience with such a complicated concept like love, I didn't know how to react in the "most right" way. At first, I made the mistake of denying the possibility of such a thing—though it was clear and practically in front of my eyes.

I'd stupidly tell myself that Shea treated me like that purely because I was the only person on island who wasn't afraid of him. Smiled at me like that because I was his friend, that he saw me as friend and nothing more.

But he started to advance, sliding closer to me as we fished together, shyly asking me if I knew what love was and if I had my eye on anyone… I just lived on like he was only a friend, hoping he would understand and eventually give up. Shea wasn't observant, I learned, but still, I pretended like I was blind to his feelings, thinking it would solve everything…

But the more I pretended, the stronger he persisted. When I stopped visiting him with the foolish idea that maybe if he didn't see me for a while his feelings, through time, would fade, he'd come to visit me. When I didn't answer the door, he just walked in like he was welcome; "I am Chelsea's friend, so it is okay," he explained, and I lied and told him I didn't mind because I didn't want to lose a friend.

Honestly, I was beginning to fear him… So maybe it was wrong of me to, because when it came down to it, Shea was my friend above everything else, but tell me, how should I have felt when I awoke to see him in my house, watching me? "Chelsea is very pretty when she sleep," he'd remarked bashfully, and I'd only nodded, nonchalantly asking if he'd like breakfast.

Fate decided that she wasn't finished with me just yet.

Vaughn entered my life, arriving just when the leaves of the trees turned into warm shades of brown and red and yellow, and the crisp island air would always smell like apples.

Vaughn, who I couldn't resist, who I couldn't help but be drawn to. Gorgeous eyes, like amethysts, and a smile like Eros's… Intimidating, mysterious, and painfully enticing all into one beautiful man… So perfect, so…so different from Shea.

We would meet up whenever we could, sharing a sweet chocolate bar as we walked through the island's colorful, romantic forests… We would talk to each other about our hopes and dreams, laugh at the squirrels that quizzically looked at us before snatching the nearby acorns and fleeing, sigh and smile at motherly Mirabelle's caring, sometimes too caring, heart. The sun would set behind us and we still talked, hiking up the mountain and collecting the herbs and flowers that we'd come across. Everything was so blissful, so aligned, so right, when I was with him.

I noticed how it was so different from when I was with Shea.

And then, when I came home, smiling as my heart painted rose-colored circles in the sky above me…

"Chelsea never home on middle of week! Where do you go?!"

"I'm not a fucking kid; I can go wherever I want without you having to know where I am all of the goddamn time!"

Shea would demand why I was never home on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and I would lose my temper and, behind gritted teeth, angrily argue with him. When it was over, it would be silent. He'd leave without another word, and I'd cry, inwardly cursing at him for ruining my day.

We'd act like we didn't know each other for a while, and I was secretly happy for the silence between us. Though it was wrong, though I was frustrated with myself for thinking such a thing…life seemed to be so much more peaceful without him.

Until he'd return that night with an apology and a Red Magic Flower he'd spent "many hours searching jungle for." And how could I stand to yell at him any more when he looked so regretful?

Still, he wanted to know why. Still, he continued to be so determined. He looked up at me with those chocolate orbs and I could see how much he yearned to know, how much he cared for me, how much he ached inside.

My friend, hurt, because of me…

"Vaughn." It slipped out of my mouth before I could think straight. My hands trembled at my sides, but I couldn't take back what'd already been revealed. I couldn't look at him, instead I staring down at the floor numbly.

"Vaughn? Other man?" I could see his arm shaking and closed my eyes, not wanting to see his expression when I answered the question I knew he was going to ask.

And he did.

"Chelsea love Vaughn?"

Hot tears filled my eyes, and I shut my eyelids tighter to keep them from falling. I didn't say anything, not when my thoughts had been frozen in their place, not when I couldn't. I only nodded, a feeble movement of my head.

"I see." The tears fell when I heard his voice. So quiet, so weak, so different from the confident warrior's loud, booming tone. A man, once strong, who had helplessly succumbed to the worst enemy one could encounter, who had become deaf to everything but the sound of his heart…

"Why?" He whispered.

"Vaughn is—" I began, trying to explain something that I already knew I couldn't, but I was stopped by the feeling of…of his hot lips, desperately pressing against mine. Before I could even register the thought of fighting back, he pushed me against the wall and I groaned as the wood slammed into my back.

Shea mistakenly took it as my encouragement and anxiously shoved his tongue into my mouth. Through the thick fog in my head, a hint of someone's deep purple gaze pierced into me, and I summoned all my strength, shoving Shea away from me.

"Why?" He shouted at me. "I am stronger than other man! I love Chelsea more than any other man!"

"I'm sorry," I choked. It was all I could say. There I stood, crying for something that wasn't my fault, skin turned blue from his desirous grip on my arms, as if he could keep me with him in that moment forever.

And it was silent.

Without turning to look at me one last time, he left. The door closed behind him, my friend, leaving me to drown in my tears.

-

I haven't seen him since.

Honestly, I don't like remembering—especially when doing so brings back all those unwanted feelings.

But a memory like this can't be forgotten no matter how determined one is—like a scar, it never fades away…

If he could only hear me now.

Shea, I don't ask for your forgiveness, but lend me your ears for this moment… Though it's impossible for me to reach you, I have something to say, and I hope you'll listen to me. As my friend.

I haven't forgotten you, and I don't think I ever will.

But please answer the question for me, because for some reason, I can't—what if my feelings for you stretched beyond the boundaries, like yours for me did?

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Author's Note: I haven't posted a story in a while, and, ironically, on Thanksgiving night, I thought of this.

It isn't my best, and rereading it, I think maybe it's a bit too dramatic and cliché. Yes, it is supposed to be short. If it's supposed to be bad, one the other hand, I'm not sure. I think I messed up a lot of the grammar tenses…

But I'm too much of a tired mess to change anything (woke up at 4:00 A.M. to go do [unproductive] Black Friday shopping; crazy lines practically everywhere), so I'll leave it to your opinion.

I'm off to read a happy-wappy-perfect-sappy Shea/Chelsea story now~

Reviews are much appreciated.

Happy (belated) Thanksgiving, everyone!