"Love still makes you care even when you really don't want to." ~ Terry Mark
The air was cool with the autumn breeze that blew through the village. It brushed past him as he stepped out of his house, causing him to pull his coat tighter around himself and duck his head behind the collar. Shoving his hands into his pockets he made his way down towards Alys' farm. She had gone with Charles from the travel agency to pick up needed pieces for a new house, and had somehow talked him into looking after her animals while she was gone.
He still wasn't sure how she had managed it.
Knowing that she would only be gone for two days did little to help the restlessness he felt in her absence. He wouldn't even normally see her over the weekends, except perhaps in passing, but the knowledge that she wasn't even in town… He didn't like it.
And wasn't it strange to think that there was someone here that he would miss if they left.
Not that he missed her now of course.
He scowled into the rush of wind as he popped through the walkway and into the field beside her house. He could just see Emma disappearing to the side, and noted that she had probably promised to check on the vegetables that grew in the distant fields.
He hadn't been surprised when he had come out of the barn all the weeks ago after Frida's, and what a silly name that was for a cow, birth and seen all the other animals free roaming between the house and ocean. Alys had brushed it off, stating that she felt bad when they had to be cooped up.
It reminded him of his sanctuary, and he wondered if she had gotten the idea during one of her trips there, or if they simply thought alike.
But that had been weeks ago. Today he was simply glad that he had thought to show her how to make a farm bell, since it made his life easier in her absence.
Ringing the large bell that had been situated near the barn, he watched as the animals meandered their way to him, stopping in puzzled silence a moment as they didn't see their normal caller. He sent them assurances, even as he pet and scratched and brushed and milked. By the time he was done the odd assortment of creatures were happy and ready to ignore him in favor of eating.
He grabbed the bottles of milk and turned to head into her house, checking the lines of beehives along the western stone cliff as he did so to make sure none were overflowing.
She had quite the setup, he thought to himself. Simple and a little chaotic, but well run. He pushed into the house, and noted that that too was a reflection of her. A bit untidy, but not unwelcoming. She had expanded it, adding a sitting area and a separate washroom. She had pictures and figurines spread around, and flowers tumbling out of vases and cups.
It felt happy, and made him want to stay and relax even as it put his back up. He didn't like feeling comfortable in her house. It caused that tight chest feeling, and he had been studiously avoiding that since Bess gave birth.
He placed the milk into the refrigerator, glancing over the pictures that dotted its surface. There were ones of her younger, her hair short and curling around her face, ones of her with others in different city settings. Seeing no harm in his curiosity, he let himself wander around the large space, eyes falling on the different pictures as he got to them. A collection near the door seemed to be from just before her move to the farm, and consisted of a lot of her at work building things. There was one of her hammering together a chest while a small red haired girl looked on, another of her making a face at a red haired man who was cutting a plank of wood in two. There was also one of her and what he assumed were her parents since the older woman was the spitting image of Alys if she was 20 years older and more polished, and one of her with a group of similarly dressed adults, all covered from head to toe with what appeared to be sawdust.
In the corner near her TV was an assortment of more recent images. People from Echo Village in different locales around the area, all with the obviously delighted blue haired farmer, and all ranging from just as delighted to obviously surprised. There was her with Emma over a bushel of vegetables, and crouched down with Niko and Toni over a bright yellow chick. He saw ones with Rod and Felicity and Sandra and even Allen, though both appeared to be rolling their eyes even as she hugged his arm. He frowned at the one of her laughing while Soseki kissed her cheek, and felt his brows drop over his eyes and into a scowl as he noticed one thing.
He was in none of the pictures.
It didn't bother him.
The hell it didn't.
What happened to her constant declarations of "liking him", of them being friends? If you were going to keep pictures of every person you had ever known in your life shouldn't you have at least one picture of your so called favorite?
He prowled around the room, trying to convince himself that it didn't matter, and then stopped short when he got to the dresser near her bed. There were four pictures ranged along the top of it, the first was one of her and her parents again at what looked to be her graduation, the next was her with Iroha, both laughing as they stood over the blacksmith's forge.
The last two were him.
Well, not just him.
The first was him with her and Rod, Alys squeezed in the middle while Rod beamed and he scowled. The second was the two of them, she had a grip on his arm, her face framed by flowers and alight with humor, and he was trying to pull his arm away while a blush creeped up his neck and he frowned at her.
Next to the picture sat a dried out clover.
His thoughts winged back to earlier that year and the flower festival. She had come up to his shop, her head ringed with a bright pink crown of blossoms, and placed a moon drop flower on Rod's and his counters. Rod had responded with a blue blossom a few shades darker than her hair, and when she had lifted a brow to Neil he had rolled his eyes and stated that he didn't have time for such silly customs.
The look she had given him, one of quiet acceptance, had cut more deeply than any censure.
So he had grabbed a flower from the nearest clover bunch and pressed it into her hand, and she had responded by flashing him a grin and insisting that Rod capture them on camera.
He remembered now, and in remembering, felt his face heat.
She had kept it.
He was getting the tight feeling again, and he couldn't help but snarl at it.
He wasn't looking for feelings, or attachment, or people changing the plans he had for his life. He definitely wasn't looking for some annoyingly bubbly farmer who had issues with personal space to be causing them.
He needed to step back. Put more space between them. Remember that she was his friend, however unasked for, and nothing else.
He double checked that nothing was out of place or moved in his roaming then slammed out the door.