Elliott x Reader One Shots - Stardew Valley

10. Serenade

  I sat hunched over my desk; papers splayed over every inch of the available space. Seemingly endless sticky notes filled with scrawled lists and fragmented reminders clung to every surface. I had been like this for days now, trying to plan for the upcoming season. There was so much to keep track of; my somewhat limited budget, – I had underestimated how much I needed to get through winter – the various crops I could grow, how much profit I'd make for each of them, how that would affect my summer planning. 

  I had run the numbers countless times, but there were too many variables. I was sure that coming up with an adequate system was something which would come easily with time and experience, but it was only my first spring on the farm, after all. This season would set up the rest of my productive year, and the pressure was immense. 

  I sighed, dropping my pen with an audible clack as it hit the wooden surface. I cradled my head in my hands, letting out a low groan. My mind seemed to be running at a million miles an hour, though I blamed my scattered state on the laborious planning. It was a good excuse, but I knew the truth, and I couldn't lie to myself anymore. 

My gaze drifted across my desk, toward the small, hard-bound book sitting in the far corner: Elliott's novel. I picked it up, flipping to the page where I had tucked my bookmark. Always the sentimental type, I kept it fixed in place at the pub scene. I had re-read it dozens of times by that point. Defeated, I settled in for yet another turn. 

  As I read, I caught myself once again imagining Elliott and I taking the places of Clara and Vincent. In Elliott's embellished retelling, they lingered after the first song had ended and transitioned into a sappy slowdance for the second. I admired the way he set the scene, expertly describing the spark they both felt as their eyes met and they began to realize their feelings for each other. I began to envision Elliott looking at me that way; it was a small indulgence I hadn't previously allowed myself. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I slammed the cover shut, wincing with instant regret for handling it so roughly. It wasn't the book's fault. 

I reflected on my last few days holed up in the farmhouse, crunching numbers and deciding on crop rotations. Sure, it needed to be done, but truth be told I was desperately trying to distract myself from thinking about Elliott in that way. If I couldn't deny my feelings, I would shove them to the side to be delt with later. Only that scheme hadn't worked out as well as I had hoped. It remained there in the back of my mind, piping up at random intervals just when I thought I was through the worst of it. 

  It was almost like going through the stages of grief, albeit in a more chaotic way. It began with bargaining, as I tried to talk myself out of it. It's just a little crush, it'll pass on its own given enough time. Though as I retraced the events which had brought me to that point, I knew that wasn't the case. It had been building up ever since the first time I set foot in his cabin. At least on my end, it was there in every interaction, just beneath the surface. 

  Of course, I had no real way of knowing if the feeling was mutual. I could entertain the idea that he really had been leaving hints, but I knew it was a dangerous game. It just as easily could have all been explained away. He was just being nice; any romantic intention was of my own skewed interpretation. 

  And what if I truly had been reading too far into things? Would I be able to accept that he never would feel that way about me? Or would it take a drastic toll on things and ultimately lead to us growing apart? I could hardly bare the thought, though I found it slightly difficult to imagine that someone like Elliott would be interested in me, of all people, anyway. 

  I knew that it was all pointless speculation; the only real way to find out one way or the other would be to discuss it with him. But of course, that would require my confession, and the odds didn't seem to favor me too much. I wondered if I'd ever find the courage to tell him, or if I'd live with the fear of his response until it didn't matter anymore or my chance was gone, whichever came first. It made me sad to think that it might come down to that, if I let fear rule my decision.