"Just be calm and move with the season,
Winter's gone and so has your reason.
Daisies bloom and so will desire,
Keep your cool and blow out the fire."
The Happy Fits
Saturday, April 27th, Year 1
"You're breaking my heart here, Marnie, I'm telling ya."
"Save me the sass," Marnie's voice ventures from gentle to stern, a sharp left turn from pandering to motive. "You know how much this means to Jas. I'm just asking you to try to pretend that you'd rather be anywhere else."
"You're starting to get it," Shane snarks, fastening his tie to his dress shirt's collar, the feeling akin to a dog being fitted for a leash.
The Flower Dance happens once a year on the last Saturday of April; small mercy, because if it occurred at any other rate, the last vestige of Shane's sanity would be snuffed out. This festival is a classic case of tradition prevailing against reason; it is a sickly, sappy event that would make even the most stoic of souls cringe if they were to bear witness to it. It is one thing to just watch, though; to participate is akin to the feeling of being a teenager once more. Perhaps that is why this formal exists; since Pelican Town doesn't have any public schooling, they had to find a way to make the residents experience the awkwardness and embarrassment that usually occurs at a typical chaperoned dance. It is mainly for the children, yes, but you would not know it from the way the townsfolk act. This is one of the more substantial events of the season, and alas, no fake flu will spare anyone from the experience. That was last year's excuse, after all.
Shane is as well-groomed as he ever got, wearing a navy-blue dress shirt tucked into black slacks. Marnie had found the tie somewhere in her attic, making the article of clothing definitely older than Jas and possibly older than himself. Formal wear always makes him feel uncomfortable and exposed, even when everyone around him is dressed to the same standard. But that is only the beginning of his involuntary removal from his comfort zone. White is customary for the unwed girls, while blue is customary for the bachelor boys; it ends up looking like a backwards wedding where everyone is getting married at once. Creepy as fuck is what they would call it in Zuzu City, but the older folks in town never seem to give a shit about modern standards.
Marnie, flustered in her dressed-up attire, fidgets with her outfit in the stained mirror hanging above the fireplace in the living room. She fusses with the jewelry hanging around her neck, milky beads matching her white blouse. This is one of those rare moments where he and Marnie are actually on the same page about something. She detests this festival to its core, and it's not hard to imagine why. It would be difficult to enjoy a carnival about love if the person you are involved with refuses to be seen with you. It is just a part of their oh-so-secret relationship; even during times of celebration, they still have to keep up their gauze-thin appearances.
"It will be fun," Marnie says, half to Shane behind her and half to her reflection in the mirror. "Jas will have a blast, too."
"Did you manage to fix up her dress?" Shane catches a glance of his own eyes beneath the smudges and averts them outright.
"Yes, only needed a stitch or two. I think this is the last year for it, though. She's growing like a weed these days." Marnie continues before Shane has a second to respond. "Vincent's still fitting fine into his clothes, at least that's what Jodi says. Hasn't hit a growth spurt yet, reckon he'll be small for his age. Do you think Daniella will come?"
There it is. The question is frustrating, though; why would he know? She could ask anyone in town and likely get a similar answer. "No idea," he responds, hoping that it will be the end of this discussion.
"She's quite private, that girl. She still hasn't met the Mullners yet, or the Kenyons." Marnie runs her hands through her hair, sweeping it over one shoulder. "Everyone is hoping that she will be at the festival, so they can meet her."
"Then maybe she will." Shane tries to keep his voice curt, as he is not exactly wanting to discuss this with his aunt. This is just classic Pelican Town; everyone is desperate for something to talk about, and it is all the better if it's a newcomer who they have no attachments to yet. Marnie doesn't press him further; he has already made it abundantly clear that he has no interest in discussing the new farmer. And if it were any other occasion, Shane would have been able to put this out of mind. But unbeknownst to her and everyone else in the valley, the girl has not been far from his thoughts.
Intrusively, he remembers the night on the pier, and he finds himself turning away from his aunt, fearful that his contemplation would be present on his face. He had been about seven or eight beers deep when Dani had approached the base of the dock, curious and cautious. It was clear that she was trying to give him the space he wanted, but when she turned to leave, something possessed him to offer her a beer and invite her to some dreary, existential conversation. To his surprise, she was game; that was just the first of the unexpected things he learned about her that night.
All of it, every part of it, is just odd. Not just her, but his behavior too. Thinking about it feels even worse, and he has an idea of why that is the case. But pondering it further is almost a death wish of a certain variety, so it is better to shut it all down. There is always the present to contend with.
"If she is there, you better be nice." Marnie flusters with the hem of her blouse, trying to button the highest point on her collar. "I get that you aren't a social butterfly, Shane, but please, try to have a little bedside manner."
Shane nearly jumps out of his skin at his aunt's choice of words. "There a test after the lecture?"
The whites of Marnie's eyes flash as she gives the ceiling a cautionary glare. "Shane, all I ever-"
"I'm checking on Jas." Shane can feel the heat of her stare every step down the hallway. I'd pay first price for a moment of peace.
Jas's bedroom is located in the attic, a short flight of hardwood stairs leading up to an aged loft once used for additional storage. Some children may be frightened to sleep in an old, rickety space such as this, but not Jas. Jas is a complicated child, but she seems to lack for traditional fear. And besides, Marnie has a knack for transforming a desolate room into a home. Climbing the exposed wooden staircase, the loft at the end of it is surprisingly snug and secure. There are toys scattered across the floor, surrounding a dollhouse that must have been built in the 70's. Blankets and curtains are strewn about to the point where one cannot distinguish which is which. Crayon drawings hang on the wall with scotch tape, with some fallen to the floor after months of suspension.
Jas is dressed in the hand-me-down gown she wore the past two years, a ruffled white dress held together with more than a few hasty stitches to keep the ensemble together. His niece turns to look at him, holding the hem of her skirt with bunched fists. The yearly festivals held in the valley tend to only appeal to the elderly and to the children, and typically Jas is no exception to this rule. But one look on her face tells Shane that something is immediately wrong.
"Hey, kiddo," Shane reaches the last step, the top of his head brushing against the ceiling of the attic as he ascends to the loft. He brings himself down to one knee, partially for Jas and mostly to avoid whacking his skull against something hard. "Surprised you didn't drag me out of bed this morning."
That is how Shane has woken up for nearly every festival in the three years that he has stayed in the valley. His niece's sudden apprehensiveness is new for sure. He has always been able to relate to Jas in many ways, but this new development hits close to home.
"What's got you down?" Shane sits down upon the wooden planks, right next to Jas's dollhouse; a hand-me-down of a hand-me-down that is Jas's most prized collection. Her dolls lay splayed inside its walls, no doubt paused in some new narrative. "Aren't you excited for the Flower Festival?" The irony of this conversation is not lost on Shane.
"I dunno," Jas looks down at the tips of her white shoes; Shane has noticed that she will often avert his eyes when she is feeling upset about something, a nervous habit that he shares with her. "I like dancing, it's just..." Jas trails off, uncertainty overtaking sadness. She looks up at the ceiling, visibly formulating the thought. "It's just a lotta people," she says at last. "And it's... scary."
"You want to know a secret, kiddo?"
Jas gazes at Shane with wide eyes, awaiting his response.
"I don't really like parties, either."
Jas's stare shifts, giving him a mischievous look. "That's not a secret!"
Shane's hand darts forward, fingers reaching to muss up his niece's hair. Jas giggles and darts out of the way with practiced ease. How quick kids are to leap from one emotion to the next, all of the sadness forgotten in favor of excitement. The edging of tears around her eyes have evaporated in an instant. Shane cannot help but envy that; he wonders how old he was when he finally lost that emotional flexibility.
"If you want to go home, you say the word," Shane promises, giving Jas a reassuring smile. He can only hope it is somewhat convincing. "Aunt Marnie can be mad at me all she likes, but she would never say no to you."
Jas says no other word; her arms reach around Shane's neck like a snake's grip, crushing him close and holding him tightly. It is incredible that someone who has been alive for less than a decade can have that kind of strength. But these moments are invaluable, worth more to him than he can ever put into words. You cannot choose who you are related to, that's true. But to have that sort of bond with family, it's just... Well, it's just foreign to Shane. That may have been the biggest learning curve he has had to hurdle since arriving in the valley, but it something that he would not trade for the world.
Shane waits until Jas releases him before he says, "Now, let Marnie get a look at you before we go. Time to be tarred and feathered."
His niece smiles wide again, holding her hand out so they can walk down the staircase together, hand in hand. That is how Shane and Marnie used to walk her up and down the stairs, holding hands to ensure that Jas wouldn't trip. As they descend down, Shane reflects on the festival once more, wondering just how long it will be and when he will have a chance to dip out. It is amazing how time only feels long when he is doing something that he does not want to do.
Marnie is waiting beside the fireplace, turning to see Jas reach the bottom of the stairs. Marnie closes in quickly, the urge to fidget and fuss too strong to resist. Jas has more patience than the two adults in her household combined, so she immediately accepts the treatment. Marnie fluffs out the ruffles on the dress, trying to make the hem of the skirt even throughout. "You look beautiful, sweetheart," Marnie says warmly, the affection in her voice apparent.
Jas does a little twirl, her skirt swirling as she comes to a clumsy halt. She looks so delighted, and Shane knows in his heart that there is no way that he can skip this festival. He might want to stay here within the safety of the farmhouse and do literally anything else, but he can't bring himself to miss a moment of his niece's happiness. So, even though it goes against his very nature, he will go and do his best to not suck the fun out of the event.
Marnie turns back to the mirror, giving her own appearance once last look. "Are we ready then?"
"Give me a sec," his bedroom door has been left open a lick, and his steps are treading there all the same.
"We're gonna be late!" Marnie's voice echoes down the hallway. "And we-"
As his bedroom door clicks shut, Shane's focus narrows down to the drawer where he keeps the liquor. There is one thing that Marnie got right here. No matter what it takes, he will make sure that Jas has a lovely time at the festival. And it doesn't matter if he needs to float his way there. He has his back-up flask in his pants pocket, but that is to hoist him through the event.
Jas will have fun today, and it doesn't matter how much anti-anxiety elixir it takes. He will have a good time today. At the very least, he will pass for a functioning member of society.
The cap comes cleanly off, and the bottle is downed.
No one in his family truly wants to go to this dance. And yet, here they are, walking carefully on the hiking path that leads to the festival, trying in vain to avoid getting mud on their pretty clothing. Tradition marches on and so do they.
Almost every festival in the valley is held in the townsquare, where the preexisting architecture tends to lend a helping hand for formulating somewhat sufficient events. But Mister Mayor Lewis likes to bend the envelope, sort to speak. As such, it is now tradition to host the Flower Festival in the middle of the Cindersap woods, supposedly because the spring blossoms are too beautiful to pass on for scenery decor. Said 'spring blossoms' are fading beneath a layer of dew, an afterthought left behind from last night's storm. This spring has been a particularly rainy one, which has upset some of Marnie's cattle and all of her hens. It's led to a little extra work, but nothing unmanageable. Less to water, maybe. The thought flees Shane's skull before he even has a moment to process the words.
The chatter of townsfolk alerts Shane to their destination. The location for this year's Flower Dance is the same as it was last year, but the forested setting is more apparent than it was before; they are truly in the middle of nowhere as far as the definition stretches. It's a bit more comforting now; Shane can recall many a memory of himself getting lost in Zuzu City, but he much prefers the labyrinth of overgrowth to manmade design. He sees familiar faces now, a line of bodies standing steadfast around trees and bristles and brambles. Pelican Town will find a way to ruin such a setting as this one.
Shane can spot the movement of folks from afar, bodies busied by excitement and elation. Shane can feel himself recoil internally; almost everyone in town is already here, and the sight of the crowd is enough to ignite his nerves into flame. He is faintly aware of Jas's hand gripping his tighter, a slight indication that she is as uneasy as he is. Shane takes a deep breath, willing his anxiety to stay inward for the duration of the festival. It's easier said than done, though, but the skip in his step has an artificial influence. He can only hope to tow the line between buzzed and sociable. It is a fine line indeed.
Finer still is the stuff he swallowed before making the trek. Beer would have been a wiser choice, but he was operating with very little time. No breakfast either will likely come back to bite him. The line of trees surrounding him have already begun to blend and blur with the blue sky above them, and as Shane shuffles on, he is careful to walk as straight as he can as to not alert Marnie or the townsfolk. This is a practiced skill that he only implements when he remembers to.
Shane hears Jas squeak aloud; following her line of sight, he spots the only other child in town. Vincent, Jodi's kid, is in the same grade as Jas, though Shane suspects he has been held back a year. For the sole reason alone that they are the only two children in town, they are naturally best friends. It is a weird thing to witness, honestly; Shane had went to a public school with several hundred children per class, so it was natural to see certain cliques of friends within a grade. But in the valley, there are only two homeschooled children, so of course they are bonded tight as thieves.
Shane feels his niece's hand leave his grasp as she runs to meet her friend. He can hear them shouting something silly, something about who will be the flower queen. It is a funny notion since the Flower Dance does not have an official hierarchy that the residents vote upon, such as one would find in a high school prom. All the same, Jas's departure leaves Shane alone, and that feels exposing. His hands are empty and there is no other solution that he can think of.
Marnie departs from the group to chat with her gal friends from Tuesday aerobics. His aunt does not seem like the gossipy type, but Shane is convinced that her friend group has helped to influence her into this sort of mindset. Caroline and Jodi in particular are always chatting about some new tidbit about others, and whatever they are discussing is nothing that Shane wants part in.
Mayor Lewis is always the one who organizes the events in the valley. He has done so for the past two decades as acting mayor, and perhaps for decades more as a simple citizen of the town. No one, not even the kids, gets as excited for celebrations like he does. He even pays Gus to cater, in order to make the festivals even more of a positive experience for the folks in town. While it might be charming for someone who doesn't know him well, it definitely gets grating after a point. It honestly reminds Shane of a desperate divorcee attempting to rekindle a past love, trying so earnestly to reignite a spark that has been long dead. And while that is overwhelmingly ironic considering his relationship with Marnie, it is also genuinely sad in a way. Maybe in its heyday, Stardew Valley truly was a beautiful, close-knit community with only love and growth to share with the world. But those days are long gone, and only the elders in town try in vain to keep it alive.
A banquet spread sits beneath a shaded spot, a threadbare blanket stretched over top of ancient picnic tables. Crackers, fruit, cheese from Marnie's ranch, and glass bottles filled with pale liquid placed next to sleeves of red solo cups. That is the one lucky thing about festivals in the valley. Since Lewis usually pays out of pocket for Gus to cater, that usually means that liquor is involved as well. For the Flower Dance, there is usually Grampleton wine available, so that is Shane's saving grace. Though he has never been a wine drinker, liquor is liquor, and anything to quell the rising terror in his chest is well welcomed. And besides, nothing tastes better than free booze.
The bottles are what he suspected them to be, white wine straight from the Grampleton wineries. Three cases sit stationary beneath the table's cloth, hidden and chilled, but still present nonetheless. An entire town can burn through liquor quicker than a lit match can ravage a box of explosives. With this system in mind, Shane is hoping that he can blend right in, a faint radar glowing distantly over the town's collective inebriation. Perhaps this is the greatest gift offered by the town's festivals. Everyone is too distracted by their own intoxication and their little social circles, too engaged to avert their attention elsewhere.
Shane reaches the edge of the table, pouring himself a glass of wine into one of the available cups, the liquid clear as water within the red plastic. The motion is nearly automatic; he does not remember the footsteps treading there nor the movement of his hands grasping the bottle. While the pressure of stares would normally stifle him, this is just not a reality that he needs to fear on a day like today, a grand ol' holiday. To you, Lewis, you bitch, the last words in Shane's head are muffled by the flavor. It is a crisp, sharp white, edged yet pleasant; the sharpness only takes Shane off guard for an instant before it fades into sweetness. That may be yet a bad sign if his previous instincts have anything to say about it.
He can see Jas some distance away; the smile on her face shines bright enough to stave off his worst fears. Shane can remember the times from his school years; the individual memories are fading now, but the entire experience cannot be forgotten despite his keen insistence. Perhaps a dying town with almost no population has its benefits, but maybe not. He is aware of his own protectiveness and that is its own type of folly when it comes to children.
Shane settles in on the sidelines, close to the banquet, trying to blend in as much as he can. The residents of Pelican Town surround him, all adorned in shades of blue and white, and everyone is too occupied with each other to pay him any notice. He can see Jas playing with Vincent, their high-pitched laughter standing out among the chatter. It is good that she has a friend around; he could not imagine being the only child in a place like this. The thought triggers something in him, and he takes another swig of the wine, trying to drown it out.
He spots Emily in the crowd, smiling, standing beside Leah with her own cup in hand. They are together, but not too close. Subtle. But she does look happy, and it's a nice thing to see. He decides to leave them be, not wanting to disrupt their public time together.
Haley, Emily's little sister, is standing right in the center of the meadow, holding her flowing white skirt in one hand as she sweeps locks of blonde hair off of one shoulder with the other. Shane dislikes the girl, though he inwardly acknowledges that his assessment is unfair. She just seems to emulate the vapid, materialistic, socialite girls that Shane used to know when he was in high school, and he wants nothing to do with those sorts of people. In truth, he does not know her in the slightest, but from what he has seen and heard, he does not want to. That said, she probably feels the exact same way about him.
Breathe, damn it. Shane claps his chin, partially for flies and mostly to wake himself up. He will not be found passed out again, not after Hallow's Eve. He must keep aware of his surroundings, for both his family and for himself. Living in a small town is bound to be a strange experience, but the strangest part is the familiarity. The same faces appear again and again as though NPCs in an RPG, both in JojaMart and outside, the briefest layer of familiarity to exist.
The haze is there, a heavy-lidded feeling weighing down his eyelids and drifting his mind into the sea. Drinking alone is its own magic, but there is a special something in the feeling of being lost in a crowd, bobbing amongst the waves. Someone once told him to choose life, and maybe this is that. But here he is, not alone, not at home, a mouth rushing above for a gasp of something.
The lights are bright and Shane does not know what he wants. Where is he now? The Flower Festival, yes, petals and cologne and people. Lots of sun and an absence of shade.
As he scans the crowd around him again, he quietly takes note that she is not here.
Did Lewis send her an invitation? He must have. The better question is, would she want to come? He would not blame her in the slightest if she decided to sleep in and skip the festival, or just bolt her door shut so that she would not have to experience the cringe of today. It is a shame that the Egg Festival happened so early this year; if she had been in town for it, at least that would have been a nicer occasion to celebrate. Marnie had been hoping that she would come, just so she could meet the folks she hadn't crossed paths with yet, but it is looking like that isn't going to happen.
Smart kid.
He gulps down the rest of his drink, trying his best to not to look like he is chugging it down. It is a sweet-tasting white, but Shane is clueless when it comes to tasting the subtle differences in wine. He moves to pour himself another, strangely not feeling all that self-conscious about the action. From the looks and sounds of it, the social lubricant has worked its magic. All the better, especially on a day like today, where his nerves are fraying at the seams from just being around so many people.
As he fixes himself back to his spot, a full cup in hand, he sees her.
Approaching from afar beneath the cover of trees, Dani timidly steps into the meadow. She stands still for a moment, her eyes widening as she takes in the crowd that has not noticed her arrival yet. She is wearing a simple black dress, short-sleeved and ending just above her knees, the dark color sticking out against the bright colors of the floral decorations. Shane realizes that she is the only girl here who is not dressed in white.
The secondhand embarrassment is almost too much. Shane can see the understanding dawning on her face, and for a moment he is convinced that she is about to turn around and head back the way she came in. But she does not flee; instead, she moves with wavering steps into the center of the plaza, amidst the townsfolk who are just noticing that she is here.
A few conversations do not make for human connection; especially when only a bit of that dialogue had been by his own doing. What has been his deal, lately? He has been thinking about what she told him that night on the pier, thinking about that desolate farm of hers, thinking of her, and that does not make a lick of sense. She's lovely, sure, but many women in Pelican Town are; that has never stopped him from keeping his distance in the past.
And yet, he wants to talk to her. That awareness alone is what makes this so dangerous. That night on the dock was likely just a fluke, an incidental episode where two strangers just ended up sharing a little too much about themselves. But what if it didn't have to be that way? It had felt like connection, an honest conversation between two people, and it had left him wondering all about the strange new girl who had moved from the city to become a farmer. He wants to know more about her, but to cross that bridge again feels next to impossible. He has already made enough of a terrible first impression; for that alone, she should be running to the hills, not engaging with him in any sort of way. And that is only one of many reasons to keep up a wall of barbs when it comes to her.
But it would appear that she is walking towards him now.
He can feel his body stiffening as she approaches, his nerves shredding at the seams all at once. Far from the first time in his life, Shane wonders what the hell is wrong with him. Dani reaches the banquet table and stands beside him, still gazing anxiously at the townsfolk around them. She looks about as tense as he feels; her arms are crossed, though it almost looks as though she is holding herself tightly. He had just been thinking about how he wants to say something to her, but now that the moment is inexplicably here, the words refuse to manifest on his tongue.
Dani breaks the silence, her voice soft and wavering. "I didn't know there was a dress code."
Shane's gaze flickers back to the sea of blue and white around them. With her next to him, he can feel their stares, and his tense nerves are readied to be set aflame. "Yeah, it might have been nice of Lewis to give you a heads up."
The girl beside him shrugs, brushing strands of hair away from her shoulder. "I guess it wouldn't have mattered. I sold all my other dresses before I left Zuzu City."
Against his better judgment, Shane can feel himself smirking a bit. "Well, it makes a statement, at least." And if there's ever a funeral in town, at least you'll have something to wear.
Dani looks up at him, a small smile edging on the corners of her lips. "I suppose I'm botching the whole 'make friends and be a good neighbor' task that the mayor gave me."
Shane suddenly remembers the wine in his hand, and he takes a swig from the cup. Thankfully, goes down easily; the lack of carbonation that beer contains makes it easier to get down. "He set you up to fail."
Dani's eyes are focused on the festival; as Haley performs a practiced twirl, Dani lets out a quiet sigh. "To be honest with you, this is just par for the course with me. I get pretty anxious when it comes to situations like this."
"Situations like what? Mock purity balls?" Shane responds, the words coming out before he has the chance to reel them back in. What he said is true, of course; this absurdist dance is the unnatural combination between a high school prom and a purity ball, one of the strangest traditions only held by the deeply religious.
She chuckles at that. "That's really not far off the mark, but that's not what I meant." She looks over to where Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail are standing. Sam seems overjoyed, though his face is somewhat swollen; perhaps it's from the seasonal allergies that Shane has heard him complaining about. Sebastian and Abigail, on the other hand, look about as happy as you'd expect two goth kids to be at a festival about flowers and love. Dani echoes his own thoughts. "At least we don't seem to be the only miserable ones here."
Shane's eyes immediately shift to Marnie, who is standing beside Robin as the carpenter chats with her husband. His aunt is looking away, the cheerlessness clear on her face. She has never been able to hide her emotions in the slightest, and it is all the more evident here. It is a difficult thing to witness, but he has never found the courage to ask her why she accepts this sort of treatment from the mayor. After all, what business is it of his? But it still is painful to him, creating a mix of sadness and anger within him. Despite all of the frustrations she provides him, she deserves better.
When he looks back at Dani, he finds her gazing at him. "I'm sorry I haven't brought the jam to you yet," she says quietly. "I've been afraid to come by."
"What?" He says stupidly, inwardly cursing the way the singular word came out. He follows with, "Why are you afraid?"
"I'm afraid of the strangest things," she admits, smiling a little, though it seems forced. "I wasn't really sure where we stood."
Shane stares at her, his mouth beginning to open for some sort of half-brained rebuttal, but she swoops in to fill the deficit.
"One of these days, I can show you the absolute mess I made." Seeing Shane's visible confusion, she follows up her statement with, "You see, I tried to build my own fence."
Shane blinks slowly, letting her admission sink in. "You tried to build your own fence."
"Yes, I tried to build my own fence. Can you wager a guess to how well it turned out?"
"Well, the forest isn't on fire, so I guess you didn't fuck up as badly as you could have."
Somehow, that possesses the girl to laugh. "Where were you when I needed ideas?" She says through chuckles, smiling through her fingers as she presses her hand to her mouth. It's such a strange little detail to focus on, and yet, something within him jolts. A jerk of electricity hitting him right through the spine and down every nerve. He shakes it off quicker than he can even register its presence.
"That land of yours sucks, you know," the words are exiting his mouth before he can even process their meaning. "I mean, it's been abandoned for years. No doubt it's tough as fuck."
She is still smiling, somehow. "I don't know what tough is." Dani holds out her hands as though to display a lack of showing. "It's just dirt and debris to me."
Shane can feel the hum and buzz of the liquor beneath his skin, and that compels him to move forward. "We deal with the same stuff," he says, speaking from truth now. "You can only work it as much as you can. But I guess animals are easier than plants."
"Here, here," Dani says gently, her words almost lost in the rustle and ruffle of forest life. "I know you guys work a lot. That farm of yours is fantastic. I've seen it a few times-well, I've walked past it, and that time you guys welcomed me in. Well, um, and that-"
He is trying to follow now. Where did he leave off on? The temperature is comfortable yet humid, arid air beneath the two of them, a conversation starter if he needs one. There is a vivid tint around the leaves of the branches surrounding him, a lovely detail of nature, springtime in full bloom. Vivid, yes, that is the word. Why does everything feel so electrifying when he has a sip or two? It can leave him lulled to sleep or zapped awake, whatever mood he feels at the time. But now is not the time for strikes of fancy. She is talking and he should be listening.
"You know?" She is looking to him now, luminous eyes regarding him, contact without physical touch. Seriously, what the fuck?
Now he knows with certainty that he is too drunk. Shane can feel his skin flushing as he turns away, his thoughts frothing like whirlpools. The organic beauty of Cindersap forest surround the two of them, the crowd of villagers far enough away to appreciate all of the nature that Stardew Valley has to offer. But his attention has found only one outlet. Just her, a fresh face, yet so despaired, palpable pain that he could not help but relate to even if he does not understand why. The trembling of her pressed flush beneath his arm, skin contact. Fuck, stop thinking about that already. What the fuck?
He does not know what to say in response. Perhaps words are not always needed with her. He shuffles in his pocket of his pants, pulling out his secret flask. Dani's eyes immediately light up when he offers it to her, cap already ajar. "I've always wanted to drink out of one of these things," she admits, smiling, her fingers reaching out towards him.
She seems to like to drink, same as him. A girl her size probably doesn't need much to do the trick. He had liked drinking with her that night on the pier, probably much more than he should have. But the circumstances of that night do not apply here. They are surrounded now, not just by tree lines but by townsfolk as well.
Dani stares blankly ahead at the chattering mass in the meadow before them, her hands gripping the skirt of her gown. "I hear there is some sort of dance at the end of this thing," her words are soft, almost lost in the breeze rustling the leaves. "I have to ask... Do you think anyone will notice if I sneak out before then?"
Shane takes a gulp from his flask, still holding his cup of wine in the other hand. "Do you want me to lie to you?"
She grins at that too, somehow, lighting up her whole face. "I suppose I can deal with the repercussions." She looks around the two of them, woods and bodies around them like an army in their own right. When he looks towards her again, she is staring at him, bright eyes. It is hard to look her in the eye, even harder to contemplate why that is. "I'll see you later, Shane?"
The words are phrased as a question, impossible to miss. She is looking at him now, her face almost afraid. He does not want to cause her anymore harm, nothing even close to that. Alcohol does a great many things to him, but it always tends to give him perspective, a glimmer of an image only just out of reach. It has not even been a month, no, and maybe he has lost the last vestiges of his mind. But what does that matter with her in front of him? What could possibly matter at all?
"I'll see you," his words sound like a promise, a commitment. They are just syllables strung together, but Shane can feel the tension there, unmistakable, alive. The girl smiles again, Dani, the farmer up north, and with that she turns away, heading away from him.
As she walks away, Shane is painfully aware that his sights have not left her. Not once.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Good day! Or whatever passes for that.
I just wanted to say how much your kudos, bookmarks, and words have meant to me. It keeps me honest in a sense.
I hope that you enjoy this chapter as well as anything else I put out. I care a lot about this story and I am always so happy to see that others are enjoying it too.
Is this chapter ready? I hope so. I really do. Please let me know what you guys think!
Thank you and thank you.
Today's song lyric is Too Late by The Happy Fits. I took one listen to this song last year and I realized then that I would need to write a chapter regarding The Flower Dance!