Disclaimer – I do not own Harvest Moon.

As Plain as Brown

Lumina rustled through her closet looking for the perfect outfit. She'd been in there for over thirty minutes and she still hadn't found one. Her confidence had been dwindling over the past weeks—over a month. She'd gotten nowhere with him. She had invited him over for dinner three times and he'd refuse every time. Was she not pretty enough? She took a moment to think. Her hands tightened their grip on the dress she held, unable to come up with any logical explanation to why he wasn't hers yet. Deciding that she shouldn't spend any more time on clothes, she closed her eyes and randomly picked one out of the hangers. As soon as she opened her eyes, she felt like she wanted to throw it away, but stopped. She chose it. She wasn't go to toss it away. She chose Jack. And she definitely wasn't going to toss him away.

On her way down the stairs she spotted her grandmother slowly making her way into the dining room for breakfast. Romana noticed her presence.

"Lumina, would you care to join me for breakfast this morning? I need to have a word with you."

"I can't grandma. I'm going to visit Jack." The expression on Romana's face changed to that of surprise.

"How is your relationship with him coming along?"

"Ah." Lumina hesitated.

"Just…fine." She wasn't about to let her grandmother know that she was failing. No way. No how.

Superstitions…omen. Most of us like to say we don't believe in them. But the funny thing is, deep inside ourselves somewhere, we actually do believe them. It is easy to say we don't believe in a superstition when it involves bad luck. However, even if people don't say it, it is even easier for everyone to believe in a superstition when good luck is involved. I myself am one of them.

I left a silver coin under my pillow the night I slept on Valentines Day eve this year. My true love is supposed to propose to me by the end of the year. And I regret it…sort of. Because now, I'm desperately wishing it works.

Jack studied the lines on his right palm intently.

"How do they do it?"

"Who?" Nami lowered herself and sat next to him, her back against the trunk of the tree.

"Palm readers. How can they tell what'll happen?" Nami shrugged at his question. She knew enough and nothing about palm reading. She could read hands, but she didn't know how or why palm reading started all those centuries ago. But, what she really wanted to do right now, is read his hand.

"Let me see your hand." She took his right hand and looked at the lines. Her heart raced with anticipation. "What do you want to know?" The farmer shrugged.

"Anything you can see." Nami examined the area on his palm near the base of his little finger. There was exactly one light line that extended a little ways east. The line meant he'd get married. The branches that curved up meant it'd be a content marriage.

"You'll be married…happily." Her eyes traveled to the line beneath the marriage line. His heart line. It made a steep curve upward and ended between the middle and index finger.

"See anything else?" Nami shook her head lightly. "No." She lied. It is said that those with a curved heart line that ended between the middle and index finger…have a strong sexual desire. She shook her head to free the images in her mind.

"What're you daydreaming about?" The farmer asked. He noticed that she was in her own little world and wondered what she was thinking about. "Nothing."

"Come on. If it was nothing, you wouldn't have been blushing." He smiled and poked at her side. She felt a dull pain in her heart. His smile…it happened every time she looked at him. It was actually quite pleasant. Just like an addiction, she'd look away only to want to look at him again and it would just keep on going. However, the fact that he may not feel the same way she did hurt her emotionally—the kind of pain that hurts the most.

Jack wondered what had been bothering her. She'd been that way for a few months now. He couldn't look at her face straight on without her looking in the other direction. And he found that it hurt. Maybe she didn't want to look at him because he was so pathetic. He scratched his head to get rid of the stress, but it did nothing to get rid of the pain.

"Get a hold of yourself…" He mumbled quietly to himself. "What'd you say?" Nami asked him. "Nothing…" He shyly turned his head to look at her; afraid he'd get caught. She still was looking away from him. Strands of her hair blew along with the wind. He couldn't stop himself from wondering how she'd look with longer hair. And he had to ask.

"Are you letting your hair grow?" Nami quickly turned her head to face him.

"Huh?" As a reaction, her hand ran through the length of her growing hair. "I think you'd look prettier than you do now." He chuckled. But he found himself looking at the ground in guilt when she looked away in sadness. He quickly changed the subject.

"Do you know anything about dropping utensils onto the floor?" He asked.

"Why?"

"Well, my mom said I'd have a lot of women visiting me because I kept dropping my forks during dinner time. Are they true?" He scooted closer to her.

"Yea…I guess." She resisted from laying her head on his shoulder

"I think they are true." She looked him. "You've been coming here almost everyday." He sent her a smile that made her feel relieved she was sitting. "I'm glad I kept dropping all those forks."

Damn him. Why does he always say things like that? She hated it whenever he was like that because he says it so normally—like it's nothing. It's so difficult to tell whether or not he really means it. The things she wanted to do to him…she didn't know how long she'd be able to keep it all bottled up.

"Uh oh. I think Lumina is heading towards us." Nami said nothing. There were things she wanted to say to the rich woman—things that are better left unsaid. "You think she's going to ask me out again?" He looked at her for an answer. "I don't know if I should."

"Give her a chance. She's really into you." Nami kept in the urge to shout a protest. She desperately wanted to let him know that it was she that really wanted him. Not Lumina. And after what she just said…she knew she'd regret it.

"Really?" He said surprised. Though she sensed there was still some doubt in him judging by the familiar expression of uncertainty he held on his handsome face—an expression he seemed most attached to.

"But…I really don't want to." He groaned.

"Hey, you might actually like her." She didn't know why she was encouraging him to be with her. It was painful to imagine him with someone else. A week ago, she dreamt that Jack was married and in love with Lumina and with fifteen kids running around the villa. She had cried that night. It was unbearable.

"You…sure?" No. She wasn't. She actually wanted him to hate Lumina. But, she nodded anyway. Whatever. Who needs him anyway? It's all about traveling right? It's what she wants…what she needs. And the horrible feeling came back.

Gray had forgotten how many times he'd shifted positions on the couch he laid on in the library. He twisted the bookmark his hand as he read—a blue feather. Long ago, the feather was symbolized as a proposal to marriage. He had found one when he first arrived in mineral town five years ago. He'd been looking at the library when the feather he now held in his hands landed on the grown before him. It was if it was meant for him. But he didn't know what to do with it. He still doesn't. But he now keeps it as a good luck charm. Who knows? Maybe the feather still does symbolize marriage. Then, maybe he and Mary would be bound together.

"Gray…you've been fidgeting around for a while now…is something wrong?" He turned away from her, and continued to read the book in his hands.

"Is the couch not roomy enough?" The couch was definitely roomy. And it was really comfortable. However, his pants were not at the moment.

"Try the leg rest." He shook his head. "I like laying on my side to read."

"You sure? Maybe the pillows need…" He felt a chill run through his body when he found her standing over in front of him. Her gaze glued to the title on the book cover.

"Where'd you get that?" She asked in disbelief. "On your desk." He said and turned his attention back to the book. "It's really good." All too quickly, he found himself in a tug-of-war match with his girlfriend—the book as the rope.

"But…" She was cut short when he yanked her arm and brought her down upon him. "You're not supposed to read this. It's not finished." Actually, Mary was hoping he'd never encountered the book in the first place.

"Hush. I'm almost done." He closed the book and fixed her form on top of him. "Just lay on top of me."

"I don't think this is a good idea." He shut her up by giving her a quick peck on the lips. Normally, she'd resist. But she couldn't find the strength to. The beat of his heart rung through her ears, making her eyes feel heavier with each second that passed. She regretted not sleeping in that morning. But no…she had to write more story ideas down.

Within minutes he felt her breathing slow down. But he soon began to think that maybe Mary being on top of him wasn't such a great idea after all. He felt a growing sensation in his pants—a familiar occurrence when reading his girlfriend's novels. What made it different was that she was sleeping on top of him. Mary moaned softly in her sleep. The action did nothing to ease his desire. Instead, it increased. The book fell from his hand and landed open onto the wooden floor with a thud. He only had twenty-two pages left too.

"Mary." He tried gently shaking her awake. But he was shocked when he felt her soft lips make contact with the skin of his neck.

"Mary." He called out a bit louder, his voice cracked. He felt near paralyzed. "Mary." He tried again. Relief fell upon him when her eyes fluttered opened. In one swift movement she was up and off him, blurting out infinite apologies and ran away leaving him to himself.

Gray knocked on the door that blocked entrance into the second floor of the library. He realized that he hadn't come up with anything to say until Mary opened the door. Both of them stood staring at each other. It was clear on their faces that they wanted to say something. But neither could find the words to speak. Gray shuddered remembering the feel of her lips on his neck. That book…the one he held in his hand…it wasn't so much of a coincidence wasn't it? The main characters—Mira and Gage—the similarities were obvious. He had to find out if she really felt that way—if she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Their kiss was quite different than what they would normally have. The kiss they shared now was fervent. Passionate. Urgent. Needy. Mary could barely take in the sensational feeling that overwhelmed her. His hands framed her face and he slanted his mouth over hers, answering her need with his own. She abruptly broke off the kiss, her shoulders heaving.

"I want you…Goddess…I need you."

And that was all he needed to hear.

One by one, articles of clothing touched the floor until they were both standing naked. He dipped his head down and caught her mouth for another kiss. Mary, caught by surprise, wasn't able to see his shoe that she tripped over. Using his hands, he managed to stop himself from crushing her.

"Sorry…" He said his voice filled with desire. He kissed her again in apology. His right hand gently cupped her left breast, his thumb massaging her nipple. Mary stifled a moan. But what was stifled was replaced with a whimper. He directed his mouth to her other nipple, not wanting to neglect it. And this time she couldn't hold in a moan.

"You sure you want to do this?" Mary only nodded. He was well aware that she was a virgin. And he held a small fear of causing her pain inside. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss full of love and longing. He fulfilled her longing when his tongue shyly asked for entrance and she welcomed him in, his tongue gently caressing against hers.

The head of his penis rubbed against her opening and another moan escaped from her mouth. He gazed into her eyes as if asking for another permission. He was surprised when he felt the need in her hands as they gripped his buttocks. And he kissed her, slowly sinking down, linking bodies as well as their hearts. A tear rolled down her cheek and he wiped it away with his finger.

"Just tell me when it's okay to move." He nuzzled her neck and trailed sweet kisses and licks across her jaw. It wasn't very long at all before she gave him the okay. His rhythm was slow and gentle, quite the opposite from what she'd expect from him. Not that she didn't like it. She loved it. Loved him. Beneath this strong exterior of a man really did lay a loveable soul—just as she'd always thought. Gray broke away from their kiss and redirected his mouth to her breast, his hand finding the other.

Sighs and soft moans filled the room, each one filled with love and desire. "Gray…oh, Gray." She whimpered, her voice trembling, the world around her long gone. Only the two of them existed. His mouth found hers and her body shuddered as she gave herself to him—as he gave himself to her.

He gathered her in his arms and they were silent. No words…only the sounds of their panting. Eventually, their breathing evened.

Mary couldn't believe it happened. It was just like in her book…their first time. She felt warmth in her cheeks. If only he…

"Mary?" He whispered laying another kiss on her neck. "My answer is…yes." Mary turned to look at him.

"To what question?" She asked. "On the last page…of your book." She gazed up at him wide-eyed. And he showed her.

It was just like in her book…

"Will you marry me now?" Mira asked him. Gage lovingly gazed into her eyes and kissed her.

As the saying goes, actions speak louder than words.

"Yea…"

But he said yes anyway. Just to make sure.

Mary closed the book and tossed the pen away behind her. "There. Now it's finished." And he laughed. "But our story—our lives together have only just begun."