Claire's bloodshot eyes flicked open at the sound of the alarm clock. The buzzing rattled her skull as she blindly reached for the device, letting out a muffled moan as she pressed the button to turn it off.

The blankets on the other side of the bed were disheveled but empty. It had been so long since they awoke together that she almost forgot what it felt like. She reached her arm under the blankets. Cold. He had been up for a while.

She sat up with a slight groan, her vertebrae cracking and popping while she stretched her arms over her head. Pulling her tank top over the roll on her tummy, she gave the mirror a quick peek.

Dark circles? Check.

Chapped lips? Check.

A large zit on my face that was definitely not there last night? Check.

She didn't even want to address the birds' nest that had become of her hair. She attempted to run her hands through it, letting out a sigh at the loose blonde strands that twisted around her fingertips.

I'm up. That's always a bonus. Count your blessings, Claire.

It was always the simple things that she found comfort in during the early morning hours. The scent of her vanilla spice body wash in the shower, the plushness of the mat in front of the bathroom sink, her fuzzy bathrobe. She squeezed the water from her hair and swaddled herself in her robe's warmth. Staring at her makeup bag on the side of the sink, she let out a bitter laugh. That was a battle for another day.

"Qin?" she called out into the living room. "You get the tea started?"

"Already on my second cup." Her husband's voice echoed from the kitchen.

She let out a sigh of relief as she joined him in the other room, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. His head was already in the newspaper.

"It's recycling day," she reminded him as she turned toward the pot.

He could already hear the bristled tone in her voice. "I'll get to it. Let me finish my tea first." He took the smallest sip he could muster. He knew by now she would be in a much better mood after eating. "Porridge is on the stove, Qin..."

She ladled some into a bowl, taking a seat across from him. She quickly stood back up.

"... And the sugar is by the kettle."

She snatched the bowl, dousing both the tea and porridge with the sweetener. She no longer had to measure the amount, she realized as she stirred her tea and then her porridge. It had never been a morning staple in her household as a child. He had made it one morning early into their marriage and she had found it delightful and exotic.

She let the porridge slide off of her spoon with a loud plop. Her breakfast wasn't the only thing that needed seasoning. Her eyes flicked to her husband, who had pushed his empty mug to the side and was engrossed in the business section once again.

"Qin, recycling." There was an edge to her voice she couldn't shake.

He narrowed his ebony eyes and gave her the hint of a scowl. He set down the newspaper more loudly than either of them thought possible before reaching into the pantry and producing the lime green bin, dumping the contents into a used paper bag. He knocked the rinsed-out yogurt containers and tin cans from the kitchen counter noisily into the bag, avoiding her gaze. She vaguely felt a little embarrassed for being so insistent and turned her gaze to the tabletop, catching the bold font on a classified ad for cheap tools.

Maybe I could buy some duct tape to keep my mouth shut.

"I'll take it out after I get dressed."

He disappeared into the bedroom and Claire vaguely remembered a time when getting dressed was a two-person affair. There was gratuitous flirting involved and it always took far longer than was necessary. He'd help button up her blouses and finish with a kiss on her forehead, telling her how cute she was. She would help braid his hair and help him into his work uniform. A smile crept across her lips as she leaned over in her chair to shamelessly watch him from her seat.

The door was closed.

Claire sighed and grabbed the discarded remainder of the newspaper from the table, settling herself with her breakfast. It was only that previous winter when she would freshen up before seeing him off to work with a playful kiss. She would love the way his fingers curled around hers as he kissed her hand in farewell. It didn't matter that he stocked shelves in the local fish market for a living. She didn't care that she pushed papers and was a slave to her boss all day. When they came home to their tiny low-end apartment they were king and queen, free to do what they liked.

She hardly felt like royalty now. The only power she felt anymore came with guilt. She held her breath as she watched her husband leave the bedroom, returning to the paper. His tie was a little crooked, and she always had to fix it for him. She bit her tongue as she stared at the full recycling bin.

He's dressed now. Isn't he going to take it? Maybe I should say something…

Claire ran her fingers through her tangled locks and out another sigh, half hoping that he would do the chore he promised and half hoping he would just remain silent so she could yell at him. She got her wish, as he continued to read, no doubt absorbed in the daily article about starting a business.

Strangely, the need to yell faded as she watched him flip through his reading material.

What's the point?

Claire half-heartedly rummaged through the remains of the paper, her eyes glazing over each article absentmindedly. They sat in silence, each in their own worlds.

Is this what we are now?

She let herself drift into memories of happier times. She remembered back to their wedding day, settling into their first home together. The roses in her bouquet had been as red as his cheeks. She had delighted in the first time he had addressed her as Qin, explaining that it was a popular term of endearment in his native tongue.

Despite the fact that it felt like a lifetime ago, she couldn't help but smile. How nice would be for her to wake up at his side again, eager to start the new day with him? They had nothing but each other, and that had been enough.

She reminisced about the way his long hair meshed with hers as they used to push their pillows together to snuggle for the night. His laughter would turn into an outright cackle at the right jokes, and tears would run down her face as snorts accompanied his laughter. Different tears occurred when they sorted out their differences and healed together, promising never to fight again.

And here I am, having a power trip by making him take out the recycling.

We don't really fight anymore; we're just always on the brink.

Claire stared down at her porridge, no longer hungry. She licked off her spoon to use it to stir her tea.

Claire knew something needed to change. A single, heavy tear fell into her porridge with a splash. She quickly blinked away tears welling up in her eyes and shook her head, feeling a wave of anger that her husband hadn't even noticed her distress.

Snap out of it, Claire!

She picked up the paper.

Let's try this again.

Claire was determined not to cry. She focused on the text in front of her, scanning for something of interest.

Beautiful Mineral Town awaits! Come explore nature on a generously-sized property complete with farm house! Leave your worries behind and come experience the luxurious countryside in quaint Mineral Town. Property for sale now!

Claire was intrigued. An article with bold lettering and pictures of a lush landscape caught her eye. She allowed herself to imagine a simpler life, away from the stress and monotony of the city. They were running together in a field of heather, the wind playing at their hair as they giggled and shared a sweet kiss. He was placing a daisy chain on her head while they looked out at their fields of corn. They were napping in the dappled shade of an old apple tree, the blossoms raining down onto their hair. Starry nights filled their view as they were lying under the moonlight together, eager to spend another day together.

This could be a new start for us...

The smile quickly faded from her lips as reality struck.

You can't be serious, Claire! Come on. No...it's not possible.

Still, she found that her heart was swelling. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this enthralled. She couldn't let that feeling die.

Claire looked over at her husband, who was still reading the paper. His face was expressionless. He often returned home from work drained. She imagined that he, too, was contemplating a more ideal life. Dreams of opening his own business seemed like a fragile memory shattered by the harsh realities of life. They couldn't go on like this.

"Q-Qin?" Claire stuttered.

"Hmm?" Her husband responded, eyes still glued to his newspaper.

"Are you...happy?"

"Happiness is a fleeting emotion, Qin."

Claire frowned. She could sense his resignation as her tears started to well up again.

Dammit, Claire, keep it together!

She took a deep breath and grabbed the paper, crinkling it in her shaking hands. She walked over to her husband and slammed it down in front of him. He looked up from his article slowly.

"Yes?" he asked complacently.

"Hah...what do you think? I know you're not happy." Claire paused, gathering her courage as her memories of happier days flooded her mind. "Won… I'm...not happy. What if we...did something about it? I mean, we have nothing to lose, right?"

He read over the ad in silence. Claire gulped while she waited for his response, each second feeling like an eternity as she listened to her pulse thudding in her ears.

"Are you feeling ok?" Won snorted. He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders before looking back down at his paper, the ad already off of his mind.

It wasn't the same laughter she recalled enjoying. She squared her shoulders. "I'm serious! Think about it...we could relax for a change! Maybe you could even think about starting up your business-"

He dismissed this with the wave of a hand, his expressions suddenly becoming serious. "Don't be silly, Claire! Things are not that simple."

"What if they could be?" she pleaded, trying to share her optimism. "What if there… was a b-business... opportunity…?" She hated how defeated she already sounded.

Her partner paused for a moment and shook his head. He stood slowly and gathered his things, still shaking his head, as if in disbelief she would come up with such an absurd idea. Claire looked down in defeat, knowing the subject had been dropped.

"I'm sorry, Qin. I have to go to work. I won't be home until late...I picked up an extra shift tonight. Don't wait up for me." He grabbed the bag of recyclables and lunchbox, kissed his wife on the cheek, and walked out the door without looking back. His tie was still crooked, and she didn't care.

Claire slumped in her chair and stared blankly at the advertisement.

Leave your worries behind…

The fields in her mind were fading, replaced with stacks of paperwork. The daisy crown crumbled into thin air. Their happy nights together under the stars - gone.

It was time to get dressed for work, but Claire found herself unable to move from her seat. Her tears fell, warping the brightly-colored letters.

Perhaps it had been a stretch, but it was all she had at the moment.

Count your blessings, Claire…

At the moment, she couldn't think of a single one as she buried her head into her arms and sobbed.

0o0o0o0

Authors' Note: Thanks so much for reading! This story is the work of two besties who love Harvest Moon! We actually met on this site, and we're excited to present to you a collaboration of our thoughts and our writing! We'd love to hear what you think! We hope you're in the mood for something a little different! Buckle up, because it's going to be a bumpy ride! ;)