Somewhere Only We Know ✨

P1- Scrambled oranges on toast

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰! 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘤 😊 𝘐𝘵'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 :) 𝘌𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

There was once a famous pick-up line, in a tiny seaside town. One pulled away from the rest of the world by clouds of dust and salt, picked up in the wind and left behind in the sand. It went like this - that the sun is an orange that was grown from only the finest fruit tree in heaven, but for a beauty like that, they would gladly bring it down to earth for breakfast.

Fishermen would whisper to eachother, as they began their day, that it was the sky that had eaten the orange for breakfast instead. One, with flaked skin and oil smeared on his lip, would say that the sky must be celebrating tasting an orange that good. This was whilst another, with kinder eyes and softer hair, would say that the orange's tanginess must have sent the sky into a sense of shock, lighting up the world in a sudden zang! The other fishermen would like the second explanation better; and the first fishermen would pout in the corner before complaining about another unsuccessful catch.

And in all this mess, some would sourly decide they preferred sleep. Stubbornly, they would try to dig themselves into linen blankets, or swear revenge against chattering birds.

Hammy didn't really care.

It wasn't that he didn't care because he had a sense of maturity - the rare sense of maturity where people don't mind being woken up - it was that the sound of his own snoring was loud enough to drown out all the other noise. There he lay, cocooned in piles of blankets and pillows on the second floor Moorland Inn, safe above it all.

The room stunk of Juniper berry perfume.
Hammy had knocked over the bottle full of it meant for air freshening, and perfume had sunk far too deeply into the wooden floors for it to be washed out by the time he had noticed. With deep breaths, he reasoned to himself it wasn't that big of a deal considering it was really the only type perfume the town produced- aside from it's much more expensive counterpart made from heather flowers. You could find it in small jars of it scattered around any market stall, or larger pots stacked onto delivery carriages that never made it out of town... the point was, Stella shouldn't be angry.

Of course, she was.

And here she was again with a similar taut expression, in pure frustration, stood over Hammy. Surrounded by the stench of Juniper berry perfume, and shelves cluttered with sea shells that the idiot obsessively hoarded, she watched him snore all his troubles away on the same morning he should have spent hours helping her get the Inn ready. Groaning to herself, she reached down and pinched his nose.

Strangled noices made their way from Hammy's throat- anyone could have mistaken him for a bird rather than a human, or maybe for a very aggravated squirrel.

"What the hell was that for?" Still half asleep, he croaked words out, self-consciously rubbing at his nose.
"Were you having a nice dream?" He could hear the annoyance in her voice.
"Maybe I'm still dreaming, what kind angel is this before me?" Laughing, he looked up, trying to invite her to laugh along.

Tight black curls frizzed up in the heat, and sweat seemed painted onto her forehead. Noise quickly died down when he looked into squinting eyes- shutting away with stress and fatigue. The more he woke up, the more that same stress seemed to settle in to the atmosphere.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to oversleep."
"I don't hold anything against you," She pinched her own nose, maybe in attempt to wake herself up, "It's just not going to work if you don't help out somehow- I gave you this place to stay-"
Frustration, stress, all of it threatened to spill over; her hands began to shake.

In a swift- maybe panicky- movement, Hammy reached over to Stella's arm and pulled himself up off the bed, grounding himself to her hand.

"I'll take over deliveries today, tomorrow even- whatever you need, really."
He took his hands, one still holding her hand, and placed them on his heart. Stella guessed it was somewhat preformative; and whilst he rattled on way too many words of affection, her shoulders relaxed a bit.

"I was already going to ask you to take over the deliveries all week." She smiled when she saw poorly hidden horror on Hammy's face. "It will help me concentrate on brewing. You better get going- sun's already so high in the sky."

As she walked to the door, interrupted her,
"Do you at least want me to get you one of those Juniper berry cakes Penny makes?"
"I'm sick of the smell!"
She shut the door with a carefree giggle, bubbling up from a chest that had been strained far too long.