Title: Blackberry and Vanilla

Author: Me

Description: Oneshots about Gray and a type of Claire that no one's ever met before

Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon

1. Blackberry and Vanilla

I remember that cool winter day when I stepped into the inn my scarf wrapped around my face, my jacket buttoned tight. Usually I would storm upstairs, grumbling and yelling about something or another and stay there all night. Today had been too bad for that.

I stormed over to the bar without bothering to remove my coat. I yanked my scarf off jamming it into my pocket.

"That bad?" Came Dad's call and I nodded. He tossed me a beer.

I looked around the room and saw just how vacant the bar was. There was only one other person.

It was that farmer girl.What was her name? Chair? Hair? Claire? Yeah, Claire.

She was Ann's best friend. Even quieter than Mary, though. Not once since she had come to Mineral Town had I heard her talk. I watched her intently for a few moments. But, wait, she looked. . .different. It didn't take long to figure out the difference.

She'd abandoned her overalls for a gray and white striped flannel shirt that fit her nicely. Her golden hair was pulled into a loose bun, a few curly strands spilling over her ears. One in particular curled down over her cheek.

If I could just slip it behind her ear. . .

Woah, man. Where did that come from? I watched her as she wrapped her long, delicate fingers around her steaming cup of cocoa, staring at the steam as it drifted up into invisibility.

Then, she looked up and saw me staring. I blushed and yanked my hat over my eyes. Something Ann had teased me about since I was little. It was a habit that had formed from the verse, If I can't see you then you can't see me.

I took a cautious peek at the girl from under the hat's bill and gasped. She had that worn-out gray boggin on her head, the edge pulled over her eyes. I had seen her with it on, dashing around the town with a determined look on her face as she bought things and gathered herbs.

Then, without thinking about it, I picked up my can of booze and walked over to her table.

"Can I sit with you?" I asked uncertainly.

She took off the boggin and looked up at me her eyes wide and afraid (was I that scary?) and nodded.

"So, I'm Gray. . ." I stated trying to pick up conversation with this tiny, delicate thing.

She nodded again. I gave her a tiny smile and spoke, "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

She shook her head slowly and then with her voice barely above a whisper, "I," It was soft and beautiful, like music, except for. . . "s-s-stutter. P-p-people make me n-n-nervous."

Ohhh. That would explain a lot. Ann often asked Claire to repeat herself when she whispered in her ear. I assumed that Ann was just nearly deaf or something. This had never occurred to me.

"I-I don't like t-t-talking t-to p-people. They l-laugh at m-me." She muttered. A little louder this time.

I gave her my most serious stare, "Do I look like I'm laughing?"

Her eyes were less afraid now, now just mildly curious and a little. . .happy. She smiled shyly.

I hadn't noticed how pretty her eyes were. . .They were a soft blue, almost gray. She shook her head. I grinned widely. Take that, Ann! Saying I'm bad with people. . .Then she turned bright red and said loudly: "D-d-don't do th-that!"

"What?" I asked, slightly offended. What was she on about? I didn't do anything.

"S-s-smile like th-that!"

Huh?! She covered her face with her hands and I noticed her cherry red ears. She blushed worse than I did! I noticed suddenly I could smell her shampoo. Ann had some. It was blackberry and vanilla. . .

"Like this?" I grinned again.

"Y-y-yes!" She shrieked. She smiled and her lips opened and a beautiful, foreign sound escaped! It was laughter! Giggles bubbled over her lips and she covered her face with her hands.

I stared at her. Awestruck that someone this amazing could be in the same room as me.

Then as if she had suddenly realized herself, she stopped and paled. Dad stared at her and me, a knowing half-smile on his face.

"O-oh! I h-h-have to go!" She whispered and she went flying out of the inn like the devil was after her. She had left her cocoa still steaming on the table. I sat for a moment, replaying the whole thing in my head like a movie. And from somewhere across the room came the combined laughter Ann and Dad.

"Oh shut-up." I growled and thundered upstairs. I lay on my bed that night and inhaled deeply every couple seconds swearing I could still smell that vanilla and black berry shampoo.