A/N: Oh yeah! A fast update, I think? Faster than my latest update, anyway! XD
DISCLAIMER: Now, if I owned Harvest Moon, you think I'd be writing fanfics about them? The answer is a big, fat NO.
Anyone could have heard his griping, had anyone been standing next to the door, ears glued to the cold, smooth surface, with all intentions of eavesdropping on God-knows-whatever stuff was happening on the other side of the said door. Luckily, no one was mischievous enough to do the said deed.
It was the day before the festival, and Gray still hadn't asked anyone. So why wasn't he asking Mary out, like he usually would have done? This event had practically become an unspoken tradition between the two of them for as long as they could remember, so why break it now? What could be holding him back? It was painfully obvious. Written-all-over-his-face obvious.
Well, not to him, anyway.
Truth was, he didn't know. This year had been kind of… different. Somewhere, deep inside, he wanted to ask someone else; a certain… spunky, blonde farmer to the event. But Mary…
Surely she wouldn't hold it against him if he didn't ask her out for one lousy year. They weren't dating, anyway. They went together because they were both available at the time. So… what happens when he takes somebody else, then? Who would take Mary?
"Gray?"
Behind him, Cliff materialized from the door. He gently closed it, took a seat on his bed and gave his pillow a soft pat. He watched him curiously, with his eyebrows frowning in the process.
"What's up?" He asked. Gray shrugged in response.
After a moment of awkward silence, they heard a knock on the door.
"I'll get it." The blacksmith volunteered. The mattress creaked after he stood up, lessening the weight on the bed. He turned the knob, and much to his surprise, it was Mary. Speak, er, thoughts of the devil.
Why? Mary never visited him at the inn. The only times they graced each other with their presence were either inside the library or the blacksmith, and sometimes the square on a few occasions. What was she doing here, clumsily knocking on his door, wearing an unreadable expression on her face?
"Hi, Gray." She smiled. He nodded ineptly to respond. "I… came to… ask you to the festival."
Figures. Seemed like she had nobody else to go with, so how could he possibly refuse? Was this festival so important that she couldn't miss one lousy year of it? Girls, he scoffed. Mysterious creatures as always.
Shrugging, he asked. "Fine. What time?"
Upon hearing his answer, Mary was practically beaming a smile. Gray merely raised his brow. "Six. Pick me up at Claire's house." He watched her fidget a bit more before deciding to leave.
Claire? Why did she want him to pick him up at her house? He turned to Cliff, searching for an explanation, but all he could give him was a confused shrug himself.
Will Claire be going to the festival? It wasn't like he particularly wanted her to go, just… it might have been amusing to see her in a gown, and every time he saw her she was dressed in dirt and sweat, and he never saw her in anything but that damn overall of hers. I bet she'd look funny on high heels. He found himself smiling, or, more accurately, grinning to himself. He was suddenly interested in attending the stupid festival.
"You're smiling." Cliff teased, earning a glare from the blacksmith. "What are you thinking about?"
Cliff had been talking to him a lot, lately. Was his fear of him dissolving? Already? He didn't really consider it a bad thing, but it wasn't good all the same. This meant talking from now on, and he wasn't good with words—unless they were insults. But, he reckoned that since they were living under the same roof, it was worth a shot to try and get along.
"I was thinking… about how Claire would look in a gown."
Evidently, Cliff was surprised by his honesty. And, happy to stumble upon a chance to finally get along with his long-time roommate, a knowing smile curved his lips. "You'll find out tomorrow."
"I guess I would." Gray shrugged for the second time.
Cliff grinned. "She's cute, isn't she?" The blacksmith snapped him a glare.
"No, she isn't."
He received a frown from Cliff, but he ignored him and looked away. Claire wasn't cute at all, but she wasn't ugly either. What could possibly be the word that best described what he thought of her? Weird? Annoying? No… it was something else… but what?
"You know, Gray, you really should be nicer to her." Cliff told him in a serious tone. He sighed and freefell on his back to his bed, with an escaped breath as he hit the mattress. "Claire's been really kind to you, hasn't she?"
She had,—although Gray didn't want to admit it—she had been nothing but nice to him since she moved here. Sure, they fought all the time, but that was nothing serious. They were friendly when it counted. Well, she was, at least. Gray, on the other hand, had been nothing but a jerk to her. Throwing insults at her and trying to brush her away. He tried to avoid other people all his life but this time, it was different.
"I'll try." He admitted.
Cliff grinned, the night had been nothing but surprises for him, and that same night, he fell asleep with that grin adorned on his face.
The festival was hours away, and Gray was smiling an extremely rare, pleading smile. Cliff scowled at him. "I can't, Gray... I have to get ready myself."
"Come on! It's not every day I ask you for a favor."
He glanced at the intimidating guy, who didn't look so intimidating now that he was practically begging with a weird look on his face. But, like Claire, he was a sucker for puppy dog eyes. Heck, what he said was true, anyway. It wasn't everyday he was asked for a favor from him. He sighed. "Alright, Gray. I'll help you pick some flowers for Mary."
"Mary?" He stared at Cliff stupidly.
He watched his eyebrows meet as he frowned. "The flowers are for Mary… right?" He asked with a suspicious look on his face.
Gray eyed him sheepishly. "Uh… no."
"It's for Claire, then?"
His shoulders slumped. "How do you always know?"
Cliff crossed his arms, fingers tapping. "Magic. Now, Gray, you do understand that you're trying to give a bouquet of flowers to a girl you're not taking to the festival, and you'll be seen giving said flowers to said girl by the girl you're actually taking to the festival, right?"
Gray scratched his head. "You lost me at… the beginning."
Annoyed, Cliff gritted his teeth, and through it, he spoke; "Wouldn't Mary feel a little… awkward, being your date, when she sees you giving flowers to Claire, who isn't your date?"
He was scratching his head before, but now he was just tugging at them in frustration. "Man, you keep saying girl, flowers, date, girl, date, flowers, date, gi—"
Seriously, did he stumble onto a parallel universe where everything was completely weird? Because Cliff actually shut him up without saying anything.
"Gray, I don't like where this is going." Said man who shut him up told him.
The blacksmith lowered his gaze, Cliff's leather shoes in view. "Can't I just… give them to her while Mary isn't looking? If she sees the flowers, we could always tell her you gave Claire those things."
"Why are you so intent on giving her a bouquet of flowers, anyway?"
Well, that did it. It took thirteen words to get him to fall absolutely speechless. His eyes were left widened and his mouth hanging open. Why, indeed, was he so intent on giving Claire flowers to this particular event? Didn't he find her annoying, weird and short-tempered? She was always, without fail, the one who was at the receiving end of his insults and thrown books at the library, the one who threw his emotions into a wall, shattering them into a mess. He never liked her, the way she would suddenly walk into his life and disorient him in many ways. Gray did things he normally wouldn't do, like talk, freak out, and stalk a girl for crying out loud!
Oh sure, he could go on for hours but still not know what word best described her.
"Dude, you're a real bull, you know? Forget I asked." He was mad. He knew it wasn't Cliff's fault, but hey, he was mad. In any case, he was being really weird today, because Cliff wasn't his usually wimpy self around him, and if there was anything more uncomfortable for him than talking—it was change. He didn't know what to do now because of Cliff's sudden proximity.
What more of the change within himself?
He stomped angrily towards the woods, turning his back on his roommate who told him to wait, but, as expected, he didn't.
He was blushing, so why would he?
Why was he asking himself all of these stupid questions?
The walk through the woods was short. He gazed at the trees, with light making their way through every gap the leaves made from the sky. Gray heard none of Cliff's constant asking of questions, just the birds chirping along in harmony accompanied by the continuous flowing of the river behind Gotz's little cabin. He had to admit, this was relaxing. It had been a while since he felt this way.
His feet led him to the flower bed in Mother's Hill, without even having to maneuver himself. He knew the place by heart, because he took a hike towards the top once a week—which he had been doing the day he decided to live at the inn.
He kneeled down, crouching on one knee, his right arm resting on the other knee. His gaze shifted from flower to flower, each swaying as if dancing with the wind. It was kind of pretty, with all the white and yellow huddled together in asymmetrical motion. He picked one, a smile planted—no pun intended—on his face.
Before he knew it, he'd been picking one after another.
Darn, it's getting late. I'd better go. He traveled back towards the inn, seeing as his current get up was unacceptable, because of all the dirt that made their way to his penguin suit. It was going to take a fair amount of time trying to dry clean this baby. It was only a matter of time before he climbed the stairs of the inn, open the door knob and-
He then saw Cliff. He was still there.
He graced himself with an apologetic smile, but Gray made no effort to return it.
"What now? You're giving those flowers to Claire?" He asked.
A familiar shrug. "I dunno yet. I'm thinking about it."
They heaved a sigh; both of them slumped on their respective beds, leaning against the wall in their tuxedos.
"By the way," Gray began. "Who are you taking to the festival again?"
There was a long pause before his roommate decided to answer. "Claire."
What?
Cliff is taking Claire? Since when? Had their relationship progressed this much in the short amount of time she lived here? Rapid thumping sounds could be heard throbbing inside Gray, before he realized that those sounds were actually his heart beating. Cliff and Claire? Since when? Calling him angry was an understatement.
Suddenly, the unexplainable happened.
Cliff fell to the hard wooden floor, his face to the left, but his auburn eyes facing the other way. He rubbed his right cheek, which was swollen. Hell, another understatement would be to call him shocked. Their clashing eyes met as the auburn pair were scared, maybe even slightly miffed, in contrast to the sapphire ones, which was burning in pure wrath. One would bet that only one of the two men knew why the individual was angry—and it wasn't the individual himself.
Why, it almost appeared as if Gray was… jealous. The heavens must have summoned an apocalypse.
"Uh… why did you punch me again?" Cliff asked who was gently rubbing his right cheek. As if that would help ease the pain. Gray was buff, he was weak. Period.
"As if I would know." The blacksmith snapped, leaving Cliff behind as he darted towards the door, unaware of the bouquet of flowers he left behind.
Damn it, he cursed, rampaging towards her farm on the yellow brick paseo. Cliff taking Claire… that was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard! It was as stupid as… as…
Him taking Claire.
He was nearing her farm, and just in time, early, even. The sky was painted a gorgeous indigo color, and the wind was growing colder by the minute. The wooden fence and the red mailbox came into view, indicating the entrance to her farm. He was beginning to feel excited when he heard someone utter an incredibly disgusting grunt. Gray was right next to her house, and if that grunt belonged to a suspicious guy, then she could be in serious trouble. Better go and check it out.
He found the culprit. A guy? …no. Suspicious? Oh yes.
"That was a weird sound just now." He smirked upon seeing her head turn in surprise, but quickly dissolved into irritation. Claire returned her gaze to the southern part of her farm.
"Go away." She told him, but he knew she didn't mean it.
He chuckled, and she didn't like it, he thought. He was enjoying this. "What are you doing?"
"Forgot to feed my chickens."
He bit his lip to hide his laugh. It was then that Gray noticed she was wearing something… else. "It's not every day you wear something like that. Care to turn around?" He flicked his finger in a circular motion. There was no point, though, because her back was turned. Her reply was to continue walking to the southern part of her farm, so he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands.
"Fine, I'll just see for myself." He quickened his pace to stop in front of her, and then he surveyed her overall appearance.
He didn't expect what he saw, though.
She was wearing a white dress, with thin straps hanging on her exposed shoulders. Her neck was significantly visible, too… and it did wonders to emphasize the simple pearl earrings she was wearing. The fabric hugged her upper torso entirely, but flowed when it went below the waistline. The long, streaming skirt would have flowed with finesse to the ground, but she held it up to prevent it from getting dirty, revealing her small ankles and the silver, toe-hugging sandals that sparkled in the dimly lit sky.
It didn't sparkle as much as her eyes, though.
They were the same sapphire color of his, but they looked so much better on her.
He imagined her feeding some stupid chickens, in that lovely gown, getting dirt and chicken foot prints all over it.
"It's a waste," he muttered.
Claire tilted her head in confusion. "Huh?"
His cheeks were anything but pale. If ever, they were burning red. "I-I'll feed your chickens for you!" She frowned.
Gray felt her come closer. "Are you sure? You look a bit red to me. Maybe you should rest."
He stepped backwards before she had a chance to feel his forehead. The contact would make him crazy—he was sure of it.
"I'm… fine." Surprisingly, they were already in front of the chicken coop, he turned the knob and entered, with Claire following close behind.
Sure is stuffy in here, he thought. It was too narrow and small, and they were alone. He gathered the feed from the far end corner of them coop. He'd been here several times, so he'd know. He helped Claire on her farm a lot—usually against his will. Flocks of chicken would follow his trail every time he sprinkled the feed to their rightful containers, and pretty soon the spot would be… well, spotless.
"When did you ask Mary?" Claire asked, watching from the other end of the coop, breaking the silence.
He paused. I asked her? He watched the flock consume the newly sprinkled feed in an instant before he had the decency to reply. "I didn't."
She frowned. "Then why are you here?"
He stood erect, irritation painted on his face. "I'm here because she asked me."
Her voice turned up to eleven. "Why didn't you? You go together every day, don't you?" She shook her head frantically, she was aware of her raised voice, he believed. "She was waiting."
He felt his cheeks burning hot with frustration. There was something about the way she urged him to ask another girl out, which made him quiver in anger. Did she actually want him to hook up with Mary?
"I didn't want to go." He wanted to grin because of the way she shut up, but now wasn't the time. Both their blue eyes met.
"Why?" she asked.
Why, indeed? Gray absolutely hated that question. He didn't know, that's why! That was what he was trying to figure out since yesterday! He never hesitated about asking Mary out before she came along. Why did she have to go and break his perfect routine of forging crappy jewelry, avoid people, fight with gramps, take Mary to festival, avoid people and fight with gramps? This girl really was annoying, down to the very last bone!
The bins were full, and there was no time to answer, so they exited the coop, relieved of being free of the stuffiness of the room.
Gray knew he was walking too fast, but he couldn't slow down for her to keep up with him, especially in the shoes she was wearing. He couldn't handle being within close range of the farmer tonight—even though she didn't look like a farmer today. He heard her ceaseless panting caused by trying to keep up with his pace, and he figured it was time to stop being savage and start being a gentleman, so he turned to face her.
Only to find out she was stumbling on her two left feet.
Gray caught her by the upper arm, and let her weight fall on him, making sure to keep his balance intact. The gap between them now was basically zero.
He searched her for any sign of injury, and found none, thank goodness. She was squeezing her eyes shut, while holding on to him tightly. His ears were turning red. Seriously, why is this turning him on?
Their eyes met when she opened hers, and the both of them just sort of… stared at each other. It was then where he realized the word he was looking for. The word that best described her.
Beautiful.
"You okay?" He asked. He must've been hallucinating, but he could've sworn he saw her blush. Claire nodded in response. "Yeah, thanks."
They let go of each other, and took awkward steps toward her house. "Oh, and thanks for feeding them."
Who? Oh. The chickens. Right. He gave her a nod.
Claire opened the door and gestured for him to enter before screaming "Mary, your date's here."
Oh sure, call him 'her date,' why don't you.
Mary immediately ran towards her, smiling that timid but genuine smile of hers and uttered, "hi Gray," as ineptly as she could.
"Hi, you look great." It was true. She didn't have her glasses on, which was always a nice change, because he could see her gentle brown eyes, and most of her face was exposed because her hair was tied up in a pony tail. Her neck wasn't as nice as Claire's, though.
A sudden knock on the door caused the three to jerk backwards.
"Must be Cliff." He guessed.
Sure enough, when Claire opened the door, her 'date' was revealed, in all of his shining glory. Shiny up to his cheeks, anyway.
"Cliff! What happened to you?" he heard her cry in concern.
A laugh escaped his breath, where his eyes met Gray's, and then fell on Claire, and he said: "I tripped."
No festival yet! XD
tufted titmouse: Thank you! XD
Massu Chan: Oh dear, pardon me for being cruel... Hah! XD Peace.
HMhannah: I'm glad you think so. Please look forward to the next. :D
skitsophraniac: Oh? Then what pairing do you like? I'll try to include it. That way everyone's happy. I'm open to suggestions. I love Gotz! ...and I'm going to include Karen, because someone else proposed the idea.
imabeemee: Ahahaha, three in one, indeed. Here're three words: You. Are. Awesome! Hahaha! Thank you for the review.
StellaAllets: Hahaha, thanks. I'll keep your suggestion in mind. XD