It was still raining when I left the warm confines of Sam's house. With every step that I took towards the sea, my heart leapt a little higher in my throat and I feared it would choke me. Time was slipping through my fingers as Friday marched ever-closer. I quickened my pace.

The beach was soggy and grey, abandoned save for the lone figure poised at the end of the pier. A blustery wind whipped grains of sand at the hems of my jeans, coating my sneakers, pressing rain through my clothes into my skin. The usual warmth of autumn had been leeched away, a reflection of the state of my heart. I was thankful for the roar of the waves and whistling of the wind that filled my head with a furious sound that encompassed most of my thoughts. My hands shook as I approached the dock.

I stepped softly onto the worn wood, unsure if I wanted my presence to be known yet. On the one hand, I didn't want to startle him, but on the other, I didn't think I could stand to see what his reaction to my approach would be. I kept my footsteps light, but he seemed to sense me as I took my last few steps towards him.

"Sebastian," I said, my voice sounding fragile against the swirl of nature's sounds. In spite of it all, his name tasted sweet on my lips, a vow laced with the ambrosial scent of pine on a cool summer's night. I approached him and stood just to his left. I was careful to keep the distance between us substantial.

"Hey," he said stiffly, his eyes darting to me and then away. "I'm surprised to find you out here." He grimaced as though disturbed by how he'd betrayed himself in voicing that statement.

"Why?" I sniffed and wiped at my nose with my sleeve.

He gave me a very pointed look before flushing and assuming a grave expression.

I shrugged. "Feeling under the weather doesn't stop me from enjoying the rain. And I had a feeling you'd be here."

His shoulders lifted slightly and as they dropped, he exhaled heavily. "Why are you here?"

The question took me by surprise and I hesitated, running my tongue over my teeth as I thought. How could I capture the whirlwind of emotions inside my head with a simple sentence? I picked my words carefully. "I've come to talk." I swallowed. "I've come to tell you all the things that I've been too scared to say."

He paused. "Are you afraid of me?" The question was hard and gloomy.

I thought for a moment. "No," I said simply. "I'm afraid of—" I stopped myself. What was I afraid of? Him laughing at me? Him being upset by my confession of feelings? Neither of those were right; he would never do such things and I knew just how out of character either of those reactions would be.

Unable to stop itself, my face reddened as nervousness clamped down on my tongue. Yoba, this was going to kill me. I took a few steadying breaths. "I'm afraid of losing you."

He blinked rapidly for a few seconds before sighing again, more lightly. "And what if you've already lost me?"

"Then I've failed both of us."

Unexpectedly, his mouth quirked up at one side for the merest of moments, and I wasn't sure how satisfied he was with my answer. His gaze remained trained on me, dark and expectant. I could feel my resolve slipping and I mentally swore as I tried not to drown in it.

Breathe, I told myself.

I took a deep breath, my heartbeat pounding in my head. Here goes nothing. "I swear that I am telling the truth when I say that I like you and have feelings for you." I had anticipated a sudden lightness to result from my confession, but all I felt was the weight of the silence between us punctuated by the patter of heavy raindrops hitting the dock.

His gaze softened, but his mouth remained hard and unyielding. There was a certain magic to confession, that blatant baring of the soul that said more than the confession itself, and I prayed that some of that magic had worked on him.

"I appreciate you telling me." He paused as his lips took on a frown. "Finally."

"Sebastian," I said again, unable to deny myself this simple pleasure of saying his name. The syllables felt smooth, like shadows drenched in honey. I could not predict how many more times I would be saying it in the future and I was desperate to get my fill. "You are the most important thing to me. I made too many mistakes in not telling you so sooner."

"So what are you saying?"

I swallowed, forcing myself to meet his piercing gaze. My pulse throbbed. "I'm saying that I'm sorry for not being open, for doubting the feelings that you felt for me. I let myself believe that you could not possibly like me. I thought that being friends was all that you wanted. At the very least, you were my best friend, I just didn't think you wanted anything more."

He was silent, pondering my words. It seemed too early to tell what he was thinking, though his eyebrows pulled together and a small dimple formed beside his mouth.

"I know better now," I added.

He held up a hand and spoke, "Did it never occur to you that I might be feeling the same things? That maybe I thought that all you wanted was to be friends?"

"No," I admitted quietly.

"Then maybe we don't know each other yet as well as either of us thought."

There was that word again: yet. It taunted and teased me, hinting at things just out of reach. I felt stricken by its bold entrance now. "You're right. We don't," I said weakly.

The waves crashed up against the pilings of the dock, and I realized how turbulent the water was. Rain hit the pier with a satisfying symphony of percussive sound. Against the grey sky, the water felt ferocious and alive. We stood close without speaking a word to each other, together and yet alone in our independent thoughts. Country folk or city folk, rain touched us all the same.

"I just," I began, and sighed. "I just wish that you would rethink moving to the city tomorrow." I began to compile a list of all the reasons, but he spoke before I had a chance to relay it all to him.

He shuffled slightly as his voice rang out in a weary timbre. "I'll think about it."

Relief poured over me as my inner voice warned against celebrating prematurely. The threat of him moving away was still very real, I could not mistaken this small victory for a true win.

"In the end, it's your choice," I said, spitting my words into the wind. The gravitas of them came back on a breeze to me. "I just want you to know that I like you. You don't have to move away, and no matter what you decide, I will always be your friend." I swallowed down a sob. I didn't want to cry, though with all the rain sliding down my face, it would have been hard to tell.

He nodded slowly beside me. "I'll think about it," he repeated once more, and we lapsed into silence.

My thoughts bounced from topic to topic. I wasn't sure if I should try to initiate conversation – were we back on at least that basic level of friendship that allowed for smalltalk? Somehow it felt like I had a million things to tell him, and yet I possessed none of the words to discuss them with. I thought of my farm, and I thought of how lonely I was on those dark, starless nights when the clouds smothered the light. My thoughts returned to the sea.

The wind had picked up once again, and I pulled on a lock of hair plastered to my forehead. Despite being soaked, I relished the thrill of the storm.

Sunny beaches are overrated, I thought. Wet, grey beaches in the middle of a storm contained some link to another world, some other dimension that demanded an honesty of thoughts and emotions.

"You really enjoy this miserable stuff, don't you?" he asked, lifting a hand, palm up to cup the rain. His accompanying smile was limned with bitterness.

"I do," I stated simply. It wasn't a lie by any means. Rain had always meant peace and calm to me. Even in the city, fewer people would venture forth, and streets would approach derelict states. Now, rain still meant those things, but it also meant that I didn't have to water my own crops. In recent times, it meant that I could depend on Sebastian coming outside to enjoy it.

We stood for a moment longer in silence, my gaze flicking to him every so often as he fidgeted with his hands in his pockets.

As though sensing my gaze, he spoke softly, in a tone that caressed the air in spite of itself. "Look at those dark clouds looming over the horizon… I hope they come this way."

I gazed in the direction he gestured towards and my heart fluttered with hope.

"I like this weather because it makes everyone disappear… you know?"

"I do," I said again, quietly. "It didn't make me disappear, though," I said, my voice low, not daring to look at him. "But I can vanish if you'd like. There'd be no trace of me."

I realized with a slow burn that my words carried another meaning with them, one that had not occurred to my consciousness, at least not immediately. There was nothing stopping me from leaving Stardew Valley completely. I had had my taste of the city, and it had scraped and clawed at my insides, lapping at my wounds with its sweet poison thick on its tongue. There was no tether attaching me to the valley, nothing except for Sebastian. And if he was gone…

I watched raindrops collect on his lashes and he blinked them away as his eyes widened. "No, please," he began, and the tail of his words caught in his throat. "I mean—that's not what I meant," he stammered, and swallowed hard. "You and your farm mean a lot to the community. And, I mean, I could see that the city made you uncomfortable. I've never seen you so tense, but you seemed to be in your element, taking me around to look at things."

"I know," I murmured. "It's a weird place for me mentally. There are lots of memories there, plenty of good, but also a ton of bad. I had found my way through it, I guess. I made myself put up with a lot of things there, but the quality of living just isn't the same. Life is unbelievably good out here, I have no doubts about it. It's just," I hesitated and felt my face burn, "if you aren't here, I'm not sure why I should stay."

An emotion or understanding flickered in his eyes, I wasn't sure which, but my heart leapt to my throat. Something untenable in this moment was perfect. The air was full, brimming with anticipation and something darker, something beautiful and boundless. I dared a longer glance at Sebastian and caught his gaze on me, taking me in. His lips parted and his eyes were wide. With his gaze, it was like a second skin had slipped over me – a second skin that was warm and clung to me in all the right places, an extra layer to protect and assure me.

Or maybe it was that energy tonic talking.

"Being around people makes me feel anxious. I don't feel that way around you, though." Even in the grey light that spilled over us, I saw him blush. He could not mask his embarrassment this time.

I wanted to take his hand. I wanted to lean into him. I wanted to touch his cheek and reassure him. My fantastical wants played across my mind's eye and I quivered from the sick guilt I felt from it. In reality, all I could do was stare at him and give him an encouraging smile.

"We're getting soaked," he said, his face flushing once more. From his pocket, he produced a small white and red umbrella. With a click he popped it open and held it up. "Here, there's room for two."

"Thanks," I said and bowed my head briefly before pressing myself closer to him.

He leaned into me as well until he seemed to catch himself and flinch.

"I know this is going to sound selfish, but I don't want you to leave," I croaked into the rain-soaked air.

"I'll think about it," he said again, and I could have sworn that this time, he sounded miserable as well.