The first feeling I had for Charlie Aldebaran was…

I know what you expect me to say. I know what you want me to say, because you're reading a book stuck deep within the romance section of the Flowerbud library. You want me to say that it was love at first sight, I couldn't resist how attracted I immediately was to him, that I couldn't help but speak to the man, despite my shy nature. Or maybe, you want me to say that it was like any other ordinary day, but that I happened to notice, perhaps, the way his hair fell in his eyes, or the unnatural glow his eyes had in the morning sun.

Following true to what would be realistic, you might expect me to say I was indifferent towards him; he was another stranger who'd come to live in Flowerbud village. Maybe I'd had expectations of meeting him, myself – maybe I'd wanted him to live up to his father's name, just like the rest of the village.

But whatever you assumed, I can surely tell you, I was quite surprised of the first feeling I had of the white-haired farmer. Or, maybe I wasn't, since he gave me plenty of reason to feel the way I felt.

I hated his stinking guts.

I suppose I could've said, "I felt for Charlie a way I'd never felt for a man before," and you could have assumed from there, since that's somewhat of an honest statement – I'd never truly thought I'd actually hate someone. But this guy was a jerk, let me tell you, from the very beginning.

I first caught a glimpse of his unnaturally colored hair seated behind my desk in the library. My nose had been buried in a book, and usually, it takes a lot to draw my attention away from it, but his blinding white hair reflecting in the morning sun drew my attention immediately. He turned and looked into the window for a moment, and I immediately felt awkward; was he looking at me? I recalled how nearly impossible it was to look into the library windows during the daytime; they reflected everything outside as if it were a mirror. For a whole of two seconds, I felt very grateful for this, until he strolled right over to the window, pressed his nose against the screen, squinted his eyes, and looked right at me.

He waved, unsmiling, his brow furrowed as if he was looking into the bright afternoon sun, and I had never before felt more awkward in my entire life. I smiled shyly back and quickly closed the curtains; what a strange guy.

And, to my horror, this strange guy entered my library within twenty seconds.

"Oh," he said slowly and neutrally, looking all around. "A library."

Perhaps you expect me to explain how interested he was in books, or perhaps how adorable he was in not knowing a thing about them. Sure, that's how most of your romance stories would go; if my romance story had abided by the normal rules of, say, the book you might find resting next to this one, or perhaps the one whose author's name actually begins with a "U" placed directly in the center of the "A" section, I might describe just how adorable he was at this moment in time. However, I'm telling a truthful story, and to tell the truth would be going against every rule in all of these other books. Well, to an extent, anyway.

He folded his arms across his chest and turned straight to me, his purple eyes fixing on me. "I hate reading," he said, which, to me, was like fingernails down a chalkboard. I fought the disgusted look my brain begged my face to make, and instead, gave him a polite smile.

"I'm sorry," I replied, looking up at him and raising my eyebrows in a friendly, yet confused fashion, "I missed that?"

For some reason, at the time, it was better to pretend I hadn't heard him at all instead of biting back at him. I figured, maybe, if he had a brain, or any manners at all, he'd reply "nothing" in a way that would make me curl back into my seat sulkily. I was very wrong.

"Are you deaf?" He questioned, his eyes boring straight into my own. "I said, 'I hate reading.'"

At that moment, I decided I hated Charlie Aldebaran, new owner of Aldebaran Farm. I decided I didn't care if he dropped dead, right there in my library (as long as he didn't get any blood on the books), or if I never saw him again. As a matter of fact, I found myself willing him away the best I could, but the man simply wouldn't leave.

The strange man dragged a stool across my precious, polished hardwood floor. The screeching sound reached my ears and I cringed, wondering what sort of damage was being done to my floor.

"But the mayor said," he continued, continuing to look straight at me, as though he knew I hated being stared at, "I needed to come here for information on farming, if I needed any."

I paused for a moment, a blush rising to my cheeks despite my efforts to fight it down, and glanced around. "W…well," I said, nodding towards the far corner of the library, "there are books over there on farming, written by farmers through the ages who've actually worked this territory. I'm sure they'd be a great read-"

"I've just said I hate reading," the farmer interrupted, staring at me as if I were a complete idiot.

I blinked continuously, biting back smart replies, and shrugged my shoulders. "I…I'm sorry…" I said, at a loss for polite words. "I don't know… how to help you…"

"You could tell me what they say," he replied quickly and impatiently. "You look like you've read everything in this darn library."

What was he trying to imply? I took a deep breath as I tapped my feet against the side of the desk, biting my lip. "I... read those books a long time ago," I said, avoiding his eyes. "I'm not the best source to ask."

"Well, dammit," he said, and if I'd just been a little more outgoing, I would've told him to watch his language in my library, though about half of my books contained that type of language. "What am I supposed to do, then?"

"R…read?" I offered, which only seemed to make him stare harder at me, but his expression didn't change at all.

"Read, huh?"

"Y..yes…" Had I been smart? That hadn't really been my intention, and in any other situation, I would've wanted to take it back, but I felt quite proud of myself. My cheeks flushed bright red as he stared at me.

"Huh," he only said, tapping his fingers against my desk and leaning across it to look at me. "Alright, well, which one should I read?"

I stood up from my desk, smoothing my dress down as I did so, and began to walk towards the farming section, the white-haired stranger close behind me. I couldn't help but notice how tall he was at that moment (and no, for your information, I was not strangely attracted to abnormally tall men, I just found it worth noting); he was at least six and a half feet tall, towering over my small figure of five feet, on a good day. I paused for a moment, blushing up at him embarrassedly, and he shrugged.

"Well?" He questioned impatiently, "What book?"

I shook my head, as if prying my eyes away from him, and stared into the farming section for a while. "W… what type of information are you looking for…?"

"Farming," he said shortly, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at me, for the fifth, sixth, maybe seventh time that day, as if I were a complete idiot.

"No, no," I said quickly, though quietly, shaking my head. "I mean, crops? Even that has a few categories, like planting, daily care, and harvesting… or are you looking for livestock information?" I asked shyly, refusing to look at him. "There's even a few here and there on what crops are best during what seasons, and even a few with recipes-"

"Are there any with just a general idea of what farming is?" He asked, and as I looked up at him, I noticed a slight tinge of red on his cheeks, though I ignored it. Surely he wasn't blushing because… did he not know a thing about farming? I doubted that. No idiot, in their right mind, would take responsibility and ownership of a farm without knowing what they were doing.

"Of what farming is? Well, isn't it just p..planting and growing crops, and h..harvesting them? And maybe a few animals…?"

"Well yeah, I knew that… but are there any that contain most of the information you just said? Like a big farming encyclopedia, or something?" He leaned against my bookshelf, and it gave an ominous wobble, though he pretended he didn't notice at all.

"Uh, I… well, I'm sure there is…" I turned away from him, and searched a while, before laying eyes on just the book he needed. "Here," I said, taking the book out with difficulty; it was heavy, thick, and dusty. I held it up to him.

"That's a big book," he said, blinking down at it. "Have you got any smaller?" He asked. I was half tempted to ask him if he wanted the kind with full-colored pictures and a crossword section in the back, but instead, I just shook my head timidly. He sighed in an unsatisfied manner and lifted the heavy book from my cramping hands, and tossed it from one hand to the other as if it weren't a load at all.

"Alright, thanks," he said, and immediately turned to leave the library, but I held my hand out and managed to squeak "Wait!" before he slammed the door shut.

"What?" He inquired, cocking his head at me as if there could possibly something else he needed to do. "What now?"

"I'm sorry, b..but you have to check out books here, sir," I said, adjusting the sheets of paper scattered across my desk for the hundredth time that day. He paused for a moment at the door, almost as if he were going to run for it. Finally, he strolled over to my desk and let the book fall on it with a loud clunk, causing me to give another cringe.

"Farming Mechanics," I recited mechanically as I wrote it down onto my check-out sheet, along with its number, the date, and – what was this man's name?

"E…excuse me," I said after a moment. He sighed and looked back down at me, his arms crossed. "What's your name? I have to write it down here…"

"Charlie Aldebaran," he said impatiently. "Can I go now?"

"Yes," I replied, writing his name down and stamping the back of the book. "G… good luck. The book is due back in two days."

"Right, whatever," he responded, and with that, he was gone.