Hey guys! It's been a week and I have another chapter for you! I really enjoyed writing it, and I hope that you enjoy reading it! (: I really think that this will be the first story that I'll finish. It's just fun to write and it's less complicated than other stories that I've started. I really need a break from writing really complicated, dramatic things /:
Thank you guys so much for reading! I really appreciate it!
~Tweedlebugqueen

Jealousy

Chapter Two: A Novel And An Interference

It had been three years since Gray and I had met, and I didn't think I had a crush on him anymore. I thought it was much more than that. I thought I loved him.

On my sixteenth birthday, I had hoped that Gray would suddenly realize that the age difference didn't mean much anymore, that a sixteen year old and an eighteen year old wouldn't be looked down upon if a relationship started. I honestly think that a lot of the gossiping women in the town thought that it would. I did too.

I had dreams about Gray at night, I couldn't stop myself from hoping that they would come true. I dreamt of him taking my face in his hands. He told me he loved me, that he would never let me go. I dreamt that he kissed me, softly, trying not to hurt me. As if he could ever intentionally hurt me anyway, I told myself. I was right, Gray would never hurt me on purpose.

But alas, my dreams never came true that year. With each passing day my birthday came closer, and I deluded myself into thinking that something could finally happen between Gray and I that would alter our relationship forever.

December twentieth, that was the day I was born nearly seventeen years previously, and I was excited for the anniversary. That was what it was, wasn't it? The anniversary of my life? I hadn't ever really viewed it as one before, I don't think anyone has really ever thought about it, but I knew that's what it was. And I thought that anniversaries like this were generally good. I didn't have a reason to hate my birthday, it wasn't an occasion of sadness for me.

Though last year hadn't been filled with despair, it had been filled with false hope, which made me anxious about my birthday this year that much more. I didn't want to hope for anything again, because I had no convincing basis for the hope. Gray never treated me as anything more than a friend. I think it was my feelings for him, and the dreams I kept having that made me think there was something to hope for. I hadn't realized that if I never treated him differently, made it look like I had feelings that would compromise our friendship, that he may never have seen me that way. How stupid and naive I had been back then.

I had finally managed to convince my parents that we didn't need a yard anymore. My father did all of his work on the Mother's Hill and I rarely spent time in it. With a little convincing, and a lot of hard work to convince my mother, my parents finally agreed that we could build a library for me off of the side of our home.

Gotz had agreed to build it for me, and Gray had helped him with most of it. He insisted that I just stand back and watch it happen, women should have these sort of things done for them. Apparently, I was too fragile to throw on a pair of overalls and pour some cement for a foundation, or lift boards of wood to frame the floor and ceilings, and I was much too delicate to help lay bricks for the exterior and interior walls. At least, that was what Gray had convinced himself. I was to be the fragile little book reader forever.

It was where we were sitting, the library. It was fully equipped with books, desks, and comfortable lazy chairs now. Gray was in his corner, as usual. He was reading the novel I had just finished writing. I hadn't heard him move for over an hour, he was intent in his reading.

I couldn't sit still, I was fidgeting and couldn't concentrate on anything but my worries. 'How would he like it?' I thought. 'Would he be repulsed by it?' Or, I even worried, would he even realize that I had based the two main characters from life?

I had finished writing it a month ago, it had taken me ages. Nearly eight whole seasons, almost two years. It was a romance novel, Gray's favorite kind. I remember being shocked when he told me that was his favorite genre, but after getting to know him more, I saw it in his eyes. Gray loved romance, he wanted to be the knight in shining armor that was so often portrayed in novels.

Never had I expected to be so surprised by him. I thought I had gotten to know Gray so well, but I realized later on in our friendship that it hadn't been the case. I mean, of course I knew him, better than anyone else. And still, he always managed to surprise me somehow, making decisions I never would have guessed him to make.

The two main characters weren't entirely based on real life, only one of them. The leading male role was almost entirely based off of Gray, almost to the point were only his looks and profession were different than himself.

The leading female role was completely different than I, though. She was strong willed and fiesty, she was demanding and independant, she could fend for herself, and she didn't need a man to keep her grounded. It was almost to the point where she became annoying, and in a way, I wished I could be like her. Towards the end of the story, the male lead had changed her. She became softer, and more sensitive. She let her guard down and he realized that it was all a facade, she was sensitive and broken hearted. He mended her.

It was the exact kind of book that Gray was always telling me about. The classic story. I remember one conversation that we had where Gray was confessing his wishes to me. He had told me that he was tired of the girl always being portrayed as weak or love struck to the point of obsession. I really tried to make my character as outgoing and independant as possible. I wanted to write the book that Gray longed for, the book that he could not find on any other shelf.

You could have called me love struck, said I was a naive little girl with little sense as to what love really is, I didn't care. At the time, it seemed romantic enough to me. I had only ever experienced love and what it was supposed to be through literature. I had never seen real romance first hand, it wasn't as if my parents were very public about their feelings for one another. When I was small, I used to question why they were married at all. But I knew now that my mother and father had deep and strong emotions for one another. Somehow, to me, that made it more romantic than if they showed their affection for one another in front of other people, especially me. But because I had never seen my parents show any physical attraction to one another, I hardly had a sense of what love was really supposed to be like.

I had read more romance novels than any other genre of literature. I knew how to write a love scene, I knew how to write a wedding, I knew how to write a lot of things, more than you would think. A girl my age wasn't supposed to know too much about love, but because I was so enthralled with books, I knew. I didn't know the inner workings of a marriage, I didn't read novels like that, but I knew how people fell in love. I was in love with Gray, and I just wrote my feelings as my character's feelings. It seemed right to me.

The last twenty pages of my novel were being read by my best friend, the one boy I truly loved. His opinion was the only one I really valued when it came to this piece of work, because it was for him. If nothing else showed my true love for Gray, that book did. And I was proud of it, immensely. I could sing it to the world if I had the guts.

I had always been shy, and I had never been very outspoken. It was what scared me when Gray had confided his love of a strong willed heroine character in romance novels. I wasn't the independant girl that he yearned for whilst reading. I was the Mary-Sue character, the girl who was hopelessly in love but quiet and shy about my feelings. He had openly expressed to me that he was tired of characters like that.

Is that how he saw me?

Honestly, I hoped not. I hoped that he would see me as delicate and soft, hoped he would feel a strong need to just protect me and hold me close to him. I wanted to seem like the breakable girl that all the boys fell for and all the girls envied for her simple yet refined looks. With my raven-black hair that cascaded down my back, never done up nicely, and my soft brown eyes I was well on my way to those simple looks to be envied. I never wore jeans, overalls were never to be seen on me. I knew that Gray would protect me, if he did anything else for me. I only needed his love, and then my fantasy would be a reality.

It wouldn't be until much later that I would learn that fantasies and realities were two completely different things. If you get too lost in one, the other would cancel out and account for nothing. With girls like me, fantasies rarely became realities, because the fantasies were so far fetched that you didn't feel that reality was even really happening, you thought that your fantasy was more real than it really was. That was what scared me. At the time, I didn't realize how immersed I was in fiction than reality. Now that I could look back on it, I realized how I could have done things differently, and how they would have effected me in the long run.

I was so lost in thought, that I didn't even hear Gray close the manuscript, didn't see him get up from his chair, didn't feel him touch my shoulder. I heard him clear his throat, and jumped. I was so surprised to see him right behind me that I nearly fell out of my chair in astonishment.

I realized I was shaking, "Well?"

He hesitated. Oh no! He hates it, I thought to myself.

He shuffled his feet, "It was really good."

His ears had turned bright red . . . He liked it? "You thought it was good." I said.

He tugged on the bill of his hat, "Not just good, phenomenal. I have never read anything that I loved more than what I just read."

I couldn't stop myself from smiling, "Really? You mean it?"

"Yeah," he peered at me, "it felt like you were speaking directly to the audience. I felt like I was a part of the story."

"That was my goal." I beamed, he felt like he was a part of the story!

He blushed again, "I especially liked the heroine, she was wonderful."

"I remembered you telling me that you didn't like the weak hearted heroines, the Mary-Sue characters."

His eyes widened as he looked up at me, "You wrote that because of my suggestion?"

Now this worried me, "Did you not want me to?"

"No! I'm honored! I really don't think you understand just how much I loved that book. It was awesome! You need to have it published, and send me a signed copy." he grinned his billion dollar smile at me.

"You will be the first person to recieve a copy!" I smiled.

He grinned.

"I'm glad you like it."

"Very much."

He was still smiling at me. Gray had never smiled at me so much, ever. It made me worry whether he knew or not. . . .

"So, first my birthday and then yours!" he beamed.

I smiled back at him, grateful for the change of topic, "I know, I'm so excited! But I haven't the faintest idea of what to get you!"

"Aw shucks, it's nothing. I'm only turning nineteen," he was downplaying it, big time.

"Nineteen is a big deal, Gray." I said, my hands on my waist, "It's your last year of official teen-hood. After this year, you'll be an adult!"

That was weird for me to think about. I would be eighteen when he would be twenty. . . .

He readjusted his hat, "That's insane, I can't believe I've been alive for nineteen years, it feels like it should be longer."

"Longer?"

He shuffled his feet, "Yeah, I feel like I've been alive longer than that. You know?"

"Not really," I said.

He sighed, "That's just because you are happy right now."

If only he knew how unhappy I was when I went another day without him telling me he loved me, I thought to myself. I decided it was better to not reply to his statement.

"You are happy, aren't you?" he asked.

"Oh, mostly. But everyone has their moments, you know?"

He just stared at me for a moment, then hesitated, "Yes, actually. I do."

Our eyes locked for a long time. Neither one of us looked away. I felt like I was staring into his blue eyes and seeing the inner workings of his soul. I had never felt that way before. My brain told me to look away, that it was rude to stare at him that way. My heart told me different, it argued that I was not the only one staring. . . .

I hoped that this was the moment, the one I had been waiting for. He was so close, I waited for him to lean in. He seemed so close to my face.

Was it just me or had the room suddenly gotten hotter? Like someone had turned up the heat. I could feel his warm breath on my face, and I was sure that he was going to. He moved forwards by just a millimeter, and I closed my eyes. . . .

The Harvest Goddess must have been out to get me, because in the moment just before our lips met, I heard the bell above the library door tingle loudly.

Gray jumped, and he yanked his hand away from mine. I hadn't even realized that we had been holding hands, and now I was sad that mine was alone.

It was just Doctor Trent. I forgot that it was a wednesday. It seemed like he was oblivious to what he had just interrupted. I was grateful for that, but upset that he had ruined the moment. I had never come that close to my first kiss in my life, and now the moment was gone. I couldn't believe that it had even happened at all.

Doctor Trent hung his lab coat on the coat rack and nodded towards me before heading up the stairs. He was always so quiet, and patient. I had never been sick, but I had heard that he was an excellent doctor as well, he was kind to his patients. Mineral Town was lucky to have a doctor like him.

I looked to where Gray had been a moment before, but he wasn't there. He was back in his corner reading a book that he seemed to have just randomly pulled from a shelf. I didn't think that Gray was interested in the prices for crops, he didn't run a farm.

There were three farms that resided in Mineral Town. There was the Poultry Farm, Yodel Farm was a farm owned by an elderly man named Barley, where he raised cows and sheep, and another farm which was completely abandoned and miserably unkempt.

I didn't know the man who had lived at the abandoned farm before. He had died before I was born. It was rumored that when he died there, he was ashamed that he hadn't finished harvesting his crops for the end of the year. He was so upset and ashamed that he now haunted the farm. After he had been dead for a while, the teenage children started telling ghost stories about him to their younger siblings.

When Gray first came here, he, Ann, and I would dare each other to stay a whole night in the farmhouse. It was a ridiculous dare, no one would want to stay in the bed that the previous owner had died in. But Gray always accepted and walked into the house when the sun would set. I never believed he stayed though, I suspected that he snuck back into the Inn through his bedroom window once he was sure the town was asleep. I didn't know if Ann had the same thought as I did.

Ann was Gray's friend before mine. I had never really known her growing up, but she seemed like a nice enough girl. Sometimes Gray would invite her along with us when he felt like she was bored. He was so kind, and generous too. I wondered why he had never fancied any of the girls in town before. Maybe he was just really good at hiding his emotions.

It was stupid of me, but even after what had just happened, I wondered what his feelings were for me. Did he like me? Or did he love me? I wondered if I would ever know.

A/N: So . . . how did you like it? Good, bad? Let me know in a review! All it takes is one click of that little green button down there and you make my day! Hours of writing, seconds to review. I want to know what I did wrong, what I did right, and what you predict will happen in the next chapter! What will happen in the next chapter . . . ? The world may never know. . . . XD Just kidding!
Thank you so much everyone!
~ Tweedlebugqueen(: