The first few days of Autumn were a blur. Cliff didn't even leave his room, until Carter started to worry and came looking for him on the third day. He managed to drag himself out of bed in time to spend the afternoon helping out in the church, carefully sidestepping any of Carter's attempts to find out what was wrong.
He said he was fine, that the change in the seasons often made him tired, but he that he wasn't fooling anyone. He saw those worried glances Carter shot his way whenever he thought he wasn't looking, and when the priest gave him three meals' worth of mushroom rice balls at the end of the day, he knew that he hadn't really made too many "by accident." Carter was a good man, and Cliff appreciated the help, but he still felt like a burden, more so than ever before.
Ann had picked up on the dark clouds surrounding him too.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked out of the blue one day, as Cliff brushed past her on his way to church.
He froze for a moment, and stared at her.
"You really started to seem like you were settling in towards the end of the summer," she said, absent-mindedly dusting the picture frames in the corridor with a fluffy feather duster. She raised her eyebrows and blinked as a cloud of dust billowed out around her, then turned to face Cliff properly. "I was glad to see you looking almost happy for a change. I don't know if something's happened, but if you need anything – a friendly ear, a fresh pot of tea, whatever – let me know, okay?"
He felt his cheeks flush with warmth. "Th-thank you," he stammered. "It's very kind of you, but I…"
Ann smiled. A strand of bright orange hair had escaped her plait, and she was twirling it around her finger. "There was something else, too…"
"What's wrong?" Cliff's heart sank, and his mind suddenly began to race with all kinds of worries. Had he outstayed his welcome at the inn? Had he forgotten to pay his board?
"Nothing's wrong," she said, with a shy, subtle upturn to her lips. "It's just that now we've all recovered from whatever Karen put in that cooking pot the other day, the Full Moon festival is coming up. The view from Mother's peak is always so pretty, and I wondered if you might like to accompany me. I could even make us a picnic?"
With each kind word in her sweet, hopeful voice, Cliff's eyes stung a little more until he couldn't bear it any longer.
"I… I'm sorry," he said flatly. "I can't."
He turned and hurried down the stairs. He heard her call after him once, with hurt and confusion in her voice, but he kept walking until he was safely outside. He started towards the church, but changed path at the last moment and headed for the beach instead.
The beach felt bleak on that windy, cloudy Autumn day. The grey sea was hurling itself against the pier and foaming as it crashed onto the damp sand. Perhaps the sea had not been taunting Cliff the day before Kai left; perhaps it had known that there were darker days and stormier waters to come. Cliff sat on the edge of the pier. The choppy waves spat and sprayed at his dangling legs, but he barely noticed.
Ann had been a constant, almost intrusively helpful presence ever since he'd taken up residence in the inn. She didn't have to chat to him as she cleaned, or bring him cups of warm tea whenever she put the kettle on for herself, but she often did. He was grateful in a way, but he didn't need her pity.
Still, she'd deserved better than a careless rejection like that.
His mind flashed back to when Kai had come calling for him late in the afternoon one sunny summer's day. He'd closed his café an hour or so early and, armed with a large hamper full of food, he'd dragged Cliff away from his planned evening of moping in his room and up Mother's hill.
Cliff had realised just how unfit he was on that walk; Kai bounded effortlessly up the rocky path through the forest and past the lake while he struggled to catch his breath, but it was pleasant regardless. By the time they got to the peak, it was just about time for the sun to set. Kai laid out a soft picnic blanket and surrounded it with a circle of tealights, almost as though he was preparing for some kind of dark magical ritual.
He remembered sitting cross-legged, just close enough to the edge to see the trees below, with Kai's arms and legs wrapped around him, watching the sun paint gorgeous streaks of glowing colours across the sky as it dipped below the horizon. He remembered the comfort, the safety of Kai's warmth behind him, and the cool breeze blowing through his clothes as he sat on that lonely pier felt all the harsher.
He shivered, and looked out at the stormy sea. He wondered where Kai was now and what the weather was like there. He had to wonder about such trivialities; questions like, Does he miss me as much as I do him? could have devastating answers, and he wasn't ready for those.
He remembered the stars, twinkling above them as they nibbled at cold pizza bites and drank pineapple juice from plastic wine glasses. There were so many stars, even compared to the view from modestly-lit Mineral Town, and the crescent moon was beautiful too, a thin silver sliver against the velvety black of the sky. It wasn't as bright or as big as the full moon, but it seemed perfect when shared with Kai.
Heavy kisses, excited exploratory hands… the smooth blanket against his back, laughter as his hair nearly tumbled into one of the candles… Kai's warm skin, the cooling breeze against their damp, writhing bodies… echoes of stifled moans into the night, a satisfied sigh as they collapsed onto the ground afterwards. With such vivid memories carved into his mind, how could he ever bear to return to the peak so soon?
Ann was kind, and pretty in her own, understated sort of way, but she wasn't Kai. She could make some of those cookies she like to bake, bring her own picnic hamper, and take him to the summit for the festival if she wanted, but he'd only spend the night pining for what could have been. It wouldn't be fair on either of them.
At least, that's what Cliff told himself.
