Disclaimer: I don't own Harvest Moon.
Note: Happy Christmas everybody! :) This little oneshot is for my Secret Santa recipient Symphonic Fantasia. And can I just say, in advance, I'm sorry if this is awful. I've only played a little bit of Magical Melody, so I was kind of making this up as I went along while praying that I was staying in character. Oh well – I hope it's okay (sorry it's so short). Enjoy!
Just Maybe
Gwen slumped against the fence, exhausted. Whoever decided to get married on Christmas Day?
"Do the two of you vow to support and love each other…
…with affection during sickness and health…
…as long as you both shall live?"
It had been a lovely wedding, sure - but tiring if you were waitressing at the reception all damn day. She propped her elbows on the fence and looked out across the fields. The grass sparkled with a thin covering of frost and stars glittered in a clear black sky. Her breath misted in the frozen air.
In the stable behind her, she could hear the horses gently whickering. It was a relief to be here, with them, at last, and away from the bustle of the Inn where Ann and Jack's wedding reception was carrying on into the night. The faint strains of party music drifted across Flowerbud.
Footsteps approached from behind, crunching on the icy ground. They were slow and heavy. She knew without looking that they were Bob's.
"Hey," she said, glancing over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was Bob. "You left the party?"
"Yeah. I'm helping out here tomorrow morning. Are the animals okay?"
Gwen nodded. "Sure. Of course they are. I'm here, aren't I?"
Bob smiled sheepishly, shifting from one foot to another as Gwen watched with one eyebrow raised. "Did you like the wedding?" she asked.
He nodded. "Didn't Ann look something?"
Gwen grinned. "Oh yeah." Ann usually lived in grubby overalls. Her elbows were permanently smeared with dirt from the mine and oil from her workshop. Her long red hair was normally thrown back into to a high, messy pony-tail, but today it was shining like a glossy golden waterfall. And she was wearing a dress. Gwen had never seen her in a dress, never mind a silky white one.
"What do you think about it?" Bob asked.
"'Bout what?"
"Getting married, I mean."
Gwen snorted and swung around to face him. "What?"
She watched as Bob's cheeks flared red. He ran a hand through his thick dark hair. "I'm not saying you and I – I mean, uh –"
She laughed and flexed her numb fingers. It was freezing. "I'll tell you something," she said eventually. "If ever I do get married – and that's a big if – I wouldn't pick Christmas Day. No, it'd be in the summer. Hot and sunny." She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the sun on her face and a summer breeze ruffling her hair. She smiled. "Maybe I'd even ride in on horseback. Just for a joke."
It was Bob's turn to laugh. "I can imagine you doing that," he said.
A sudden chill ran down her spine. The night was growing colder. She shivered. "Maybe I would," she said quietly. Jokes aside, she couldn't ever imagine getting married.
"You'll meet someone, Gwen," Bob murmured, "I know you will."
Gwen jerked her head around. Bob was a man of few words. "What are you talking about?"
His cheeks turned from red to purple. "Nothing," he said, "nothing. I'll be on my way." He turned to go back into the barn, but Gwen grabbed his arm.
"Got any mistletoe?" she asked, her voice a whisper.
He shook his head.
"Pity," she said. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. Her cheeks burned. "Happy Christmas, Bob."
Bob's face was blank as he drew back from her. He lifted a hand to his mouth as if he couldn't quite believe it. "Happy Christmas," he said.
She pushed past him, into the stable. It had started to snow.
