Disclaimer: Harvest Moon is not mine. Still.

Author's note: Well, this has to be one of my fastest updates in ages! So, without having to give my usual apologies/excuses, I haven't really got much else to say. Enjoy, and don't forget, reviews are always valued.

Green Eyed

Gray slipped swiftly and silently out into the night. The bitter cold surprised him, somehow, as though he'd forgotten it was even Winter. Ice slipped beaneath his feet as sharp snowflakes whipped about in a frenzy.

Was this crazy? The fierce weather only provided another reason why heading to the farm to see Mary was pure madness. He couldn't begin to imagine what he would say to her, how he would justify his sudden appearence.

But then... he only wanted to see her. As a friend. What was so wrong with that?

For far too long now, Gray had ignored their past friendship in favour of another kind of longing. He had ignored her, really, imagining that it would make things easier.

It hadn't. All it had done was left a void inside him, and he missed her, whether romantically or platonically... he missed her. It couldn't be more simple. Or more painful.

After what must have been ten, fifteen minutes spent hesitating, letting the snowflakes coat his hair, Gray felt his rush of determination fading away. Behind it, only a faint trace of embarrassment remained. All talk and no action...

"I hate parties," he growled to himself, trying to find some outlet for his anger.

"So, what don't you hate?"

Gray wheeled around indignantly, shock and adrenaline tingling through his veins. "Oh for Goddess sake, Ann - "

He stopped. It wasn't Ann. Where he expected to see flame-red hair and blue eyes alight with childish mirth, he focused instead on long, loose blonde hair. And green eyes. Not Ann's.

Karen laughed huffily and emerged from the doorway. As she did so, the door swung shut behind her, reducing the party music to a dull buzz and eclipsing the flood of light which had briefly illuminated the freshly fallen snow.

"Oh, sorry," Gray mumbled, genuinely sheepish. He ducked his head under the flimsy pretence of avoiding the snow showers. They were actually beginning to calm down now.

"Why d'you hate parties, then?" Karen asked, pretending as though his lame apology had never happened.

He could ask her the same question really. Why had she left the celebration? Karen was well-known around Mineral Town as one of the Inn's most dedicated regulars; many nights had ended with her long-time boyfriend, Rick, as good as carrying her home from the bar. Even now an empty beer bottle was swinging from her slender fingers.

Yet here she was, lingering on the outskirts of the fun, just like he was.

Gray brushed the tip of his tongue thoughtfully over his front teeth, as he attempted to muster a decent reply. "I just... don't feel in the mood tonight," he finished eventually, adding a would-be, nonchalant shrug. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

Karen, thankfully, seemed to accept this and nodded. "Mmm, same."

"Really?" Gray's thoughts were racing too fast for him to acknowledge the fact that he was openly gawping at her. For one wildly enjoyable moment, he almost let himself believe that she, too, had grown tired of Jack's boasting.

Or, as the less cynical might call it: displaying the natural excitement of an expectant parent.

As it was, however, Gray didn't include himself in that particular group. He noticed Karen was looking at him strangely, one eyebrow raised, and he turned away very abruptly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gray saw that she was shaking her head. "Yeah," she said slowly. "It was a lovely wedding an' all, but not much of a party..."

Ah. Gray allowed himself a tiny, internal grin. So she was actually his complete opposite. While he found parties an irritation, she evidently relished them. This one, it seemed, was merely a bore.

"And Popuri's being a real pain tonight," Karen continued, her frown audible in her voice. Forgetting himself, but remembering the pink-haired girl's doe-eyed squeals, Gray couldn't help nodding a fraction too enthusiastically.

Karen's sharp laughter pierced the icy air. "You think so too?" she grinned.

As he didn't particularly enjoy being put on the spot, Gray was unable to prevent his cheeks glowing stupidly. Yes, Popuri had been annoying, but he wasn't sure how he could say it without unleashing a venomous rant in Jack's general direction. But at least he could blame his embarrassment and subsequent burning cheeks on the awful weather. "Well, she - she was - um, quite - " he stammered, then trailed off, words lost in the wind.

"I'm goin' back inside," Karen announced suddenly, turning for the door. "She might be a pain, but I guess she does have reason..." The door opened and she disappeared inside before Gray could get a word out.

It was lucky, he mused, that he was aware of Popuri's crush on Kai and the fact that she was undoubtedly missing him, as he only visited in the Summer. Gray was vaguely thankful that Cliff and Ann weren't as frivolous with his love life - or lack of.

But then everyone knew about Kai and Popuri; the girl was laughably obvious at times. Chuckling lightly to himself, Gray followed Karen inside.

"I can't believe you're actually saying this! How can you side with him?"

"It's - It's not like that, Ann. You're twisting my words completely!"

"I am NOT! And anyway, you're not denying that you agree with him, are you?"

"Well, I - well - "

Clang. CRASH. It was the unmistakeable sound of cutlery bouncing off the kitchen walls that Gray could not ignore. Sitting up warily and pulling the pillow off his head, he listened intently for further sounds of unrest below. Why did they have to do this now? His and Cliff's room was still shrouded in darkness, for Goddess sake! He groped for the alarm clock on his bedside table and groaned when he realised it was barely seven.

Urgh. Shut up, shut up!

They didn't. Covering his ears with the thick pillow helped to muffle the shouts, but it didn't erase them completely. He wondered how, on the morning after a party, they could have such abundant energy. How were they even awake?! Oh, how he'd love to be asleep right about now...

The door was thrown open forcefully, so much so that its ancient hinges squealed in protest. Gray realised he could pretty much forget about sleep, as he watched Cliff stalk angrily over the threshold. It was so unlike him, in fact, that he was rendered speechless.

His friend's normally pale skin was flushed an ugly, violent crimson and what looked set to be massive bruise was rapidly starting to form over his right eye. Ann, it seemed, was a brilliant aim.

Gray tried to stop staring, but failed miserably. He thought it would be wiser to let Cliff speak first, rather that poking and prodding around, making it seem as though as he was fishing for gossip. But that was easier said than done. Cliff was stonily silent and outwardly emotionless. Whatever he was feeling, whatever had happened... he clearly didn't want to share it with Gray just yet.

He started to sort through the drawers of his bedside cabinet with unnecessary fuss and clatter, ignorant of Gray who was gaping at his back still wondering what he could possibly say. Unfortunately for the blacksmith, Cliff whipped around at just the wrong moment and caught him in the middle of an open-mouthed, goldfish impression. A very good one.

"What?" Cliff snapped - again, uncharacteristically.

Gray blinked in shock. "N - nothing! Just wondered what on earth was going on, that's all." He paused somewhat nervously and, when Cliff didn't bite his head off, continued, "And forgive me for overhearing that quiet, private argument and - Ow!"

All he got for hs trouble was shoe to the head. Clearly, Cliff wasn't such a bad aim either.

"Seriously," he said, flinging the shoe back. "What the hell were you guys yelling about? I know Ann can be fiery, but that sounded ridiculous."

Gray waited for an explosion that never came. Instead, Cliff sank wearily onto the edge of his bed and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's all a bit stupid, really. Well, we were up late - "

"You never got to bed!"

"Er, very late then. Anyway, you remember Doug saying that Ann should be more ladylike?"

"Yes..."

"Well I sort of, um, said that I thought he had a point," Cliff explained, all in one long rush. And not without good reason. Implying that Ann needed to be more feminine was breaking the unwritten rule. You certainly didn't do it lightly.

"What did you do a mad thing like that for?" Gray asked, half-laughing.

"Because... I thought maybe he had a point."

Silence. He hadn't expected that answer. Gray raised his eyebrows incredulously. "Do you really think that?" he demanded, wondering how Cliff had ended up with Ann in the first place if he truly felt that way. For reasons he couldn't yet fathom, the whole thing left him faintly irritated.

Cliff, however, appeared to have gone far past that stage. He jumped to his feet, as Gray scrambled to do likewise. All of a sudden, Gray was very aware of the fact that Cliff was slightly taller and also of his cheek throbbing where the shoe had hit it.

"Look, it's really none of your business," Cliff replied shortly, his eyes narrowed. "Why all the interest and the questions? She's my girlfriend!"

The faint trace of irritation erupted into boiling fury. He felt it burning, clawing at the inside of his throat, then pouring out as poisoned words. "Not for much longer," Gray snarled. "Not with that kind of attitude. I'm only saying all this 'cause I don't want you to throw away a perfectly good relationship, okay? What's so wrong with that?"

"I think you're just jealous," Cliff shot back. Even he looked a little surprised that he'd actually said it, but it didn't stop him continuing, "Things have worked out for me, right, and you just can't stand it - "

Gray didn't wait to hear anymore. A small part of him wanted to furiously defend himself, but he couldn't do it. Couldn't bring himself to lie so blatantly; Cliff was bound to see straight through him. He whirled around, away from his friend, and started throwing on the first clothes he came to. Seconds later, Gray was striding down the corridor as the door banged shut behind him.

Whenever he was in a blind fury such as this, there was only ever one place his angry wanderings would take him. So, after an hour spent meandering through the snowy streets of Mineral Town, Gary was hardly surprised to find himself stood longingly outside the library.

His hand reached automatically for the door handle, only to remember that it was probably barely half-past eight and that the library wouldn't be open for at least a couple of hours. Gray stepped back reluctantly, watching his breath swirl as mist into the sharp, clear-as-crystal morning air. It didn't say much for his ability to leave the past in its rightful place, if his only sanctuary was still with the now married girl of his dreams.

Footsteps crunched along the icy path behind him, but he didn't dare look around.

"A visitor here before opening time?" said a soft, amused voice. "Now that has to be some kind of record."

"Hello, Mary." He smiled weakly as she drew up beside him. Mary was adorned from head to toe in an array of wintery clothes. The inevitable baby bump was hidden beneath a thick, woollen, midnight-blue coat, complete with what Gray believed to be ludicrously oversized buttons. A long emerald scarf and matching gloves finished the outfit.

After just one glance at her, Gray had, at least, the decency to look ashamed by his own messy, crumpled attire. His unbrushed hair, his unbrushed teeth... Eurgh. He'd have to try and ignore that one.

"What are you doing out here so early?" he wondered aloud, gesturing towards the sign taped to the library door. "You're not supposed to open 'til ten."

Mary's smile widened even further - it had never truly faded - and she pulled a small, silver key from her pocket. "I often come in early," she explained, whilst slowly unlocking the door. "Jack starts work at about six o'clock, so I'm usually just drifting about by myself. I find myself more inspired here. Perhaps it's the smell of books; I don't know."

"Inspired?" Gray asked her, confused, as the door swung forward.

"Did I not tell you about the book I'm writing?" Mary turned to head inside, indicating for Gray to follow. When he hesitated, she added, "Come on now, Gray. I don't care how annoyed you're feeling this morning, it's far too cold for you to be leaving the door open!"

She vanished indoors, leaving Gray red-faced and gaping. But after only the briefest of pauses, he found himself shuffling after her like an obedient puppy. He couldn't help reminding himself that if anyone else had said that, he'd have been quick to bite their head off. With Mary it was simply different.

A strong, musky, bookish scent assaulted Gray's nostrils immediately when he stepped into the library. He had not been there for so long now that it smelt almost alien to him, but the homely sight of old books, rickety shelves and comfy armchairs left him more than willing to re-adjust.

Mary was still talking about her novel. "Yes, I've been working on it for a while now," she explained, shuffling and sorting papers behind her desk, as Gray watched, mesmerised. "I'm sure I must have mentioned it to you." She seemed oddly disconcerted in thinking she hadn't, but Gray honestly couldn't recall ever discussing it.

Mary's eyes met his and, for the first time so far, her smile faltered and her pretty face creased into a definite frown. "Gray - forgive me for asking, but why to you have a footprint shaped bruise?"

"Oh!" How to answer that? "Cliff and I had a bit of a... a disagreement."

"Ah." Ever tactful, Mary didn't dwell on it - despite such a bruise undoubtedly raising certain questions. "Anyway, the novel. It's nearing the final stages now and I was wondering if... if you'd like to read it?"

"Me?" As his tone suggested, Gray was wondering just why she'd chosen him of all people. Why not Jack? Unless, of course, Jack had already read it. Yes, that made sense. He was probably just a second opinion. "I don't know - what to - say," Gray finally stuttered.

"Yes?" Mary suggested sadly. Her grey eyes were shimmering. "I thought you liked books, Gray..."

So, of course, he could give only one answer:

"Yes."

Mary's face relaxed at last and she handed him a large stack of papers. (They were entitled: Manuscript - Roses And Thorns). "Thank you, Gray," she beamed. "You know, I really did think you ought to read it."

What an odd thing to say, Gray thought, as he retired to one of the armchairs, very odd.