Dislcaimer- I don't own Harvest Moon.

Author's notes- Part Two of my very fluffy Mary x Gray oneshot series. Enjoy!


Part Two : Unity

In my bedroom - and my bedroom alone, by the seems of it - time appeared to have come to a complete standstill.

I don't know how long I'd been sat there; a fountain pen clutched in my hand until it created painfull grooves, my eyes staring fixedly until my vision blurred and dust slowly gathering on my glasses.

Two words should explain my current situation to you: writer's block. Two perfectly ordinary words when they're apart, but when they're together...highly irritating.

That's what I think anyway. I don't know any other writers here in Mineral Town, so I can't really compare. There is my father of course, but all he writes are plant books and, good as they are, they don't deal with the complex emotions I'm trying to portray.

I sat at my desk for a few more pointless minutes, before finally giving up. My exuse? Well...Gray will be home soon.

It's true actually, as he should be back from the Blacksmith's any minute now. Although seeing as today is the Full Moon Festival, he needn't have gone in to work at all, but apparently his grandfather required help with some huge job that just couldn't wait.

I stopped by the tiny window pane on my way across the room and glanced out. The navy blue sky was dotted with stars sparkling like diamonds against the darkness. For a little while I just watched, entranced, and all my writing troubles seemed to fade away. Then I spotted him - Gray - wandering up the road, huddling against the fierce Fall wind. I gave a slightly manic wave at the sight of him and then started when he happened to glance up and spot me. Naturally, I blushed scarlet, which I knew was ridiculous considering that he's my husband, for Goddess sake.

After a tired little wave in return, Gray continued up the road until he vanished from sight and I heard the click of the front door as he entered. Almost straight away my mother's lofty tone carried up the stairs, no doubt squeaking away at him for traipsing mud into the house.

Now I know that Gray can hold his own perfectly well, but my mother can wear pretty much anyone down if she tries. She's just so formidable. I mean she likes Gray - well, I think so anyway - but I get the feeling that she doesn't think he's properly fullfilling his 'husbandly duty'. Whatever that may be.

It's probably because we still live here, rather than our own place, but personally I can't see how that's Gray's fault. He works non-stop at the Blacksmith's, often to the point of exhaustion just so he can pay his way here.

And when my mother's constantly getting at him for the littlest things I just want to scream at her...of course, I never do. I mean, can you imagine it? Me yelling madly at someone? I'd never have the guts to do it. Besides, I want to try and keep the (relative) peace while I can. Maybe one day I'll tell her...maybe one day I'll have the courage to stand up for myself...

There was sudden knock at my bedroom door, jogging me out of my reverie. I rushed to pull it open and found a harrased looking Gray stood on the other side, having, no doubt, just been hassled by my mother moments before.

Deciding that tact was the best option here, I avoided the subject altogether. "Why do you still knock, Gray?" I asked instead, ushering him in.

"Well, it's your bedroom - "

" - Our bedroom," I corrected him, with a small smile.

Gray grinned back at me, blushing. "You could've been writing," he answered, before pausing hesitantly. "Were you?"

His hopeful expression was all too obvious and I knew he was wondering if perhaps tonight had been the night I'd finally regained some inspiration. As much as I hated to disappoint him, I had to be truthful.

"No, but I'm sure I'm nearly there." Okay, so that was tiny little lie, but I keep thinking that if I tell myself that over and over again, it may just come true.

Gray pulled off his hat and brushed a hand wearily through his deep red hair. He looked so tired, but nevertheless kept a smile firmly in place as he noticed my sympathetic look. "Still no proposal for Rose then?" he asked, glancing at my desk and the piles of blank paper that were piled on top of it.

A reply wasn't really required, but I gave him a simple 'no' anyway.

Now Rose, you see, is the heroine of my novel. I started writing it a few years ago and back then I thought that to be a heroine you had to be blonde and stunningly beautiful. Well, it wasn't so much that I thought it - hopefully I have more sense than that - but I just assumed that readers wouldn't be interested in hearing about some plain, shy girl.

But then Gray came along and that all changed. He was interested in just such a person - me! So now, poor Rose has had a bit of a make-over. She's still blonde, but now has glasses. They're pretty small and cute though, nothing like the thick things I wear. Gray actually suggested giving her glasses just like mine, but he gave up when I pointed out that it wasn't an autobiography. That certainly shut him up, as it would, of course, have to feature him as well and Gray is certainly no Gregory - Gregory being Rose's love interest. Greg's all very well and good, but he's not Gray. Okay, so that's kind of pointing out the obivious, but it's true, he's not. Greg's all very typical for his character, whereas Gray's not your average Blacksmith. He likes books for a start. Not that a Blacksmith shouldn't, it's just that when I first met him I wasn't expecting it.

In fact, Ann - my best friend - once insisted that Gray wasn't interested in reading at all, only seeing me. A flattering thought though it was, I disagreed. He does like books, I know it, he's told me. But I do get a lot of satisfaction in knowing that he likes me a great deal more.

Anyway though, I'm getting off the point. The point is that I've finally reached the stage where Gregory proposes to Rose. Nice and easy you'd think considereing that I've actually been through that myself. Only it's not. The truth is I'm finding it really hard to put the emotions I felt that day into words. Everytime I try to write something, I draw a total blank. It's getting really frustrating.

Whilst I tidied all the paper on my desk, Gray went off into the bathroom to get ready for the Festival. It's just the usual going up Mother's Hill to watch the moon, but there'll be other couples there and Gray can hardly turn up in his dirty overalls. Not that my mother would let him anyway.

As soon as he was done, we grabbed the picnic Mom had prepared and left for Mother's Hill. It was bitterly cold outside, just as I'd predicted, so I was very glad of my scarf. And, of course, Gray, who had no problem with me huddling against his shoulder for warmth.

"Who do you think'll be there tonight?" I asked, my voice getting muffled as I leant against him. It was a pointless question, really, as he knew as much about the relationships of this town as I knew about being Blacksmith. In other words, not a lot.

He tried anyway. "Um...Elli and Tim?" It was a fair guess actually considering that, like us, they're married.

"Yes, probably," I answered, with a smile that he couldn't see, but could no doubt hear in my peaceful tone. We carried on through the cold, deserted streets, a comfortable silence falling between us. There would be plenty of time for chatting when we reached the summit and besides, I loved to be able to think.

Climbing the mountain turned out to be quite 'interesting', to say the least. I suppose, looking back, it was actually an amusing experience, but that's certainly not what was going through my head at the time. Fear for my life was more my train of thought.

But I had Gray to cling to whenever I slipped and I in turn...well, I grabbed his beloved UMA hat whenever it fell off his head. Not exactly in the same league, I know, but he does love the hat.

"How did everyone else manage to get up here?" Gray grumbled as we neared the peak. I could only nod in reply, too breathless to answer him properly.

Very soon we got the answer to Gray's question: they didn't. The top of Mother's Hill was completely deserted.

"Huh," Gray said, staring around himself as though expecting other couples to come leaping out from behind rocks. I, meanwhile, went about laying down a rug for us to sit on, mentally wondering why no one else had turned up; we weren't exactly early ourselves.

Time went on and still no one arrived. We sat down, we ate, we chatted...nothing. No one. Just us.

And even though I was greatly enjoying having Gray all to myself (no doubt so was he, not being the most social person), but I just couldn't fight the urge to work out why exactly we were alone on supposedly the most romantic night of the year.

I'm sure I've mentioned before that I'd make an awesome detective (or so I like to think) and that's the side of me that was in full flow now. The side that enquires, questions, wonders. The side that explores all the options and looks at everything with crystal logical. Not the side that sits waiting for customers that'll never come in a stuffy, old library, blushing and stuttering and stammering. No, like everyone else, I'm not inside what I appear to be at first. All you have to do is bother to ask.

I thought for a moment as Gray, sat next to me, stared upwards, seemingly engrossed by the stars laid out clearly above him. I would have loved to as well, as 'beautiful' doesn't do the sight justice, but I was still thinking hard.

Soon, I was sure I had it all worked out. Not to mention bursting to share my ideas with Gray. I guess that comes from being a writer. The need to express yourself, you know?

So I told him. And he listened, even though he probably didn't care. I explained how obviously Ann and Cliff had had another bust up over Jack (the love of her life in my opinion), Elli I think may be pregnant so naturally Tim wouldn't want her climbing all this way and the Kai and Popuri situation is blindingly obvious as he isn't even in town. Now...Rick and Karen is a bit more difficult, but she did date Jack recently so I'm not entirely sure they're over that yet.

As I finished speaking, I noticed Gray was looking at me oddly, his head turned slightly to one side.

I felt my face burning scarlet. "Sorry...Am I being boring?"

Gray blinked back at me and then after a brief pause, he laughed. Naturally, I was shocked as he really isn't much of laugh out loud sort of man. Or the sort of man who laughs much at all to be brutally honest. Gray's more of the odd-smile-if-you're-lucky type of guy. Although, I like to think I'm changing that...

Anyway, what I'd said must have been absolutely hilarious to cause that out-burst and I wanted to know exactly what it was.

Gray just shook his head at me though. "You," he said. "Boring. It's - I mean - well, ridiculous if you must know."

"Oh?" I answered lightly, though my heart was pounding as it always did when Gray talked of me like that. He sounded so admiring that it made my throat tighten and my chest feel like it would burst at any moment. Part of me, a big part in fact, felt sheer happiness, but I also knew that fear caused some of that feeling. Fear that everything Gray and I had - this unity - could end as suddenly and as surely as the changing of the seasons. It put fear more powerful and immense than I could ever have imagined into me, and sometimes that truly scared me.

But then, as I listened to him carry on about how I was the complete opposite of boring and so very different and unique, I realised it didn't matter. I have him now - I have this, us. And it's amazing. There's no point in dwelling when you could be living, I know that. So I don't, I live. No, wait, we live. Gray and I together.

Tonight being prime example, with us sat out under the stars, taking it all in. And okay, so we missed the moon rising becuse we were too busy kissing, but it doesn't matter. There'll be other Full Moon Festivals, and if we miss them too it also doesn't matter.

Realising all this made me feel much more positive, and as we made our way back home I knew I'd gone some way to breaking down my writer's block. I told Gray as much, as I wandered beside him on the path.

"Oh?" he smiled. "What have you decided on?"

Smiling in return, I took his hand and kissed him quickly, before answering in a whisper, "The dedications."

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