AN: Hello! This is my very first one-shot! I wrote this just before the new year and decided to try out a different style when it came to the presentation of dialogue and the writing in general. I had originally not planned on uploading this, but after revising it I said "What the hey?" and now here we are! As always, thoughts, critique, etc are appreciated! I hope you enjoy this quick little story from my brain!

Also this is only inspired by Stardew Valley and doesn't feature any characters in particular.


Dust billowed and swirled, forming clouds mixed with the unyielding must of the cabin. Trailing along my path as my feet sluggishly shuffled across the derelict wooden floor. A final plume of fine particles; caused from the stack of cardboard boxes I oh so gracefully placed, ebbed and flowed. The whole time dancing, like little stars in the low light that streamed through the cloudy windows. I straightened up, stretching my back to force away the thrumming aches, no thanks to the less than pleasant labour.

Thick, damp air accompanied my drawn in breath. Held for a moment, and released quickly there after. Taking it all in, it was certainly something. The cabin, err… more like my 'new home', could be called many things. Quaint, rustic, possibly even charming. Unfortunately, that's what it could be referred to as. Without Grandpa here to breathe life into the rickety old shack, it sank further and further into disrepair. Hell, aside from the cabin the entire property was basically untamed wilderness, having not been cultivated and cared for since before he passed. With mom and dad gone, I'm the only one left to inherit this place. I bet Grandpa never thought his city-life granddaughter would actually accept his offer.

Stepping out into the crisp, spring, morning air, my determination gracefully soared alongside the newly rising sun. Could it be from soaking in the sunlight peeking over the tree line? Or possibly the rejuvenating smell of fresh morning dew? I'm not sure… But it's right then that I decided. No, I declared it! I belong here, I'll be happy here. Things will be different here.

Or, at least I hope so.


The boisterous and powerful fragrance of burgers sizzling on my grill made me wish a thousand times over that they would cook faster. Stomach growling as if a starving beast, I could only laugh in reply to my own belly. Breaking through the buzz of nature on this beautiful summer afternoon, his laugh pierced through to echo my own. Having just finished setting the picnic table, which we built only meters from my porch, he joined in my hunger's quest of pestering me to finally serve up lunch.

With only a light breeze on this summer afternoon, I could allow my paper plate to rest atop the wooden table without fear of being stolen by the wind. Damn. Damn I'm a good cook! I must've been airing my smug grin of triumph for the world to see, as his quick scoff and teasing chuckle gained my attention, to which I asked if he found my pride in my grilling skills so laughable; HE could be the cook next time. Grinning from ear to ear, he declined. He insisted that this has to be my new venture! Screw the farm and screw the labour! Myself, an entrepreneur and farmer turned professional chef, and himself; from neighborly farmhand to official taste tester! Yeah RIGHT! Sneering playfully, I assured him he needs to help out more than once a week to earn that title. Scoffing, he rolled his eyes, stating as if I'd want him around to annoy me any more than weekly. Silence followed, only broken up by delightful birdsong.

But…to be honest…

His help was invaluable. Truly. The first time, it had been one of the first mornings in spring; as I cursed in frustration, a third hoe had broken under the forces of the untilled soil and my unskilled hand. Knees in the dirt and sweat caking my face, his footsteps sounded and came to rest nearby. He asked if I needed any help, of which I enthusiastically and graciously accepted. Turns out he lived at the ranch south of my 'disaster' of a property. Watching him fade into the distance, he soon returned. Wheelbarrow, tools and positive attitude in tow.

If it wasn't for him, I'd probably be gone by now. Having made no progress and no friends, this small town would've been an empty world for me to remain in. So, I'm thankful.

But seriously, for real, he needs to come over more than once a week the work is brutal-


Nothing like getting lost in the hum of the crowd. It fills you with a certain, indescribable, childlike joy that only festivals can deliver. Stalls filled to the brim with delectable baked goods, knick-knacks and beautifully fresh produce traced along either side of the town square. Strings of fairy lights strewn above the square bathed the festival in beautiful light. Leaves of reds, yellows and oranges painted the landscape as far as the eye could see. This season is gorgeous, this town is gorgeous, even more so as dusk soon took the reins from the autumn evening sun. It was all gorgeous, and filled me with awe. But it was there, right there! SMACK dab in the center of the square was the most important attraction of this entire shin-dig! My award winning pumpkin!

Unable to contain my excitement, I squealed in triumph and spun to face him, and I was met with a hearty laugh, a slow clap and a congratulations. He knew I'd win. He knew. But of course he'd say that, he helped me care for the damn thing! Adjusting my knitted beanie, I accepted his praise wholeheartedly. If only his cows had come in first and not second place for livestock, maybe he could share a bit of the limelight. Of course I was only teasing. He deserved to win, and as much as he told me it wasn't true, I believe the judges were bought out by the rich snobby bastards from the next town over. My fuming doesn't last as he waves his hand in front of me, reclaiming my attention. He asks if I want something from a nearby stall. A drink? Cider? His treat? Yeah, sounds great! He's weaving through the crowd, and I can't help but watch him go. It feels like forever, what's taking him so long?

A tap on my shoulder rips me from my daydream, and my gaze shoots up. He's back with our drinks, but he looks concerned. Am I okay? Yeah I'm fine, why? He says I've seemed distant lately. I assure him I'm fine. Can we go sit, somewhere, please? The crowd's become a bit much, and I can feel myself getting panicked. He nods in understanding and takes my hand, and I jump. Sparks. He's leading me to the picnic tables, but I'm far away again. Biting the inside of my cheek lightly. What's happening here? He motions with one hand for me to sit, the other is on the small of my back to guide me. Fuck. Fuck.

I can't stop the blush rising to my cheeks, of which he notices, of course he notices. Am I okay? Yeah just, uh a little cold… that's all. Not a moment later and I'm accepting his jacket. I pulled it on top of my own to save face but, oh god. It smells like him. He's smiling at me now.

Am I falling right now?


Dancing silently, albeit for an occasional light pop or crackle, the fireplace's glow bathed the cabin in warmth and comfort. A necessary contrary to the unforgiving snap of a cold winter's night. Pushing my blanket aside and setting my hot chocolate on the table, I admire the wisps of steam curling in the air from my drink. The sound of my bathroom door opening swiftly steals my attention and I turn to face him.

Due to the heavy snowfall, it took him ages to finally arrive. It was only when he did, half frozen to boot, that I 'insisted' he take a hot shower to warm up. And now he stands in the doorway to my bathroom, his hair still slightly wet. He smiles gently. In almost a whisper, asks me if I'm comfortable. Saying nothing, I wave him over. He glides with a grace only known by me. As he sits on the floor in front of me, he rests his back against my chair, sighing contently at a chance to rest. Ever so slowly, I drape my legs on either side of him, as my hands steadily knead and massage his shoulders. Comfortable, euphoric silence envelops us. He lovingly raises an open palm back towards me, I effortlessly slide my own hand into his. Our hands almost mirrored one another's, both chiseled from the lifestyle that brought us together. Although, my slightly softer skin is a stark contrast to his numerous rough calluses. A perfect match, in my opinion.

At this exact moment, it feels as if we were the only people on the planet. Not a single other soul mattered. There was only him, and I, and the fire. This is insane. How can things be this perfect?

Moments of silence turn into minutes, until I slowly break my grasp away from him. My palms cascading down his shoulders. Confidence seizes control as I explore under his shirt and my palms come to rest on his chest. Biting my lip, I lean down, merely inches from his ear, I let out a whisper.

Won't you come to bed?