Work Text:
*** Elliott's POV ***
His reading at the library was a triumph! Surely, he invited everyone in town but he never expected so many to attend. And for little ol' him of all people! Elliott couldn't help but chuckle under his breath as he lay on the tiny bed in his cabin. He had come so far since moving to his humble abode near the sea. He was grateful that Willy was willing to let him rent it for a fair price. Homes were limited in Pelican Town. The valley was very different from his hometown but deep down, he knew it was exactly what the doctor prescribed. Of course, it seems silly to think he even had that kind of foresight before he met her. Her presence gave him more purpose than he had ever known.
The farmer. Just the thought of her and his heart suddenly felt light, as if it could flutter from his chest. Of course she had a name but Elliott feared what the mere thought of her name, her form would do to him. He wanted to enjoy the victories as they came and yet, he felt a pang of hollowness in his heart. He had no one to share this monumental accomplishment with and he felt desperate for her company. She was his inspiration, the very reason he chose his book's genre. During the dedication at his reading, he glanced up to gauge her reaction but Caroline was whispering something in her ear.
Did she think of him? Their relationship blossomed through the years since the farmer arrived in town. He only endeavored to be himself in her presence. If anything, he wanted the basis of their friendship to be honest and genuine. His small admissions of watering his flowers with sea water or finding crabs in his pockets were attempts to endear himself to her. There were younger, more assured people in the town she could befriend but her gifts and small talks were special. There were times he wondered if she was just kind to everyone but the sparkle in her eyes gave him hope. Hope, what a beautiful yet dreadful thing.
Oh dearest, shall I compare thee to a summer's day? The farmer was certainly not as stylish as Haley nor was she as artistic as Leah, she was simply timeless. She grounded him in the best way possible. The waves sounded treacherous tonight, the unforgiving storm pounding his roof. Tiny drops falling through a leak in the roof seemed to echo the quickened pace of Elliott's heart. Some nights he would catch the farmer fishing in these conditions. She had to "catch them all" he remembered with a childlike wonder in her smile.
Elliott stood from his bed and peered through the window. Perhaps he could be the shining hero who rescued his maiden from the elements. When he looked out the window, he could only see the light from Willy's shop in the distance. Thank Yoba she's not there. Not that she ever needed rescuing but he was glad she was safe on the farm tonight. Elliott extinguished the flame on his kerosene lamp and returned to bed. Thoughts of the farmer and great Victorian romances filling his mind as he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning Elliott awoke to the call of seagulls on the beach. Another day, another chance to write and dream. He went through his morning routine of dressing and brushing his hair. Perhaps it was time for a haircut but what would he do without his signature locks? Should he compose today? Perhaps a sonata to charm his beloved, although, would that be too much?
It was late afternoon when Elliott finally left his cabin. No words or notes came to his mind. It was primary school all over again. Nights lost pining over a crush, wishing they would make some grand gesture or give an indication of interest. He could feel his thoughts drifting across the river as he stood in his favorite spot on the bridge connecting the town and beach.
“Earth to Elliott. Come in Elliott.” A warm voice.
“Oh my, it’s you!” Elliott said, snapping back to reality. He hoped that came out better than it did in his mind.
“I hope I didn’t scare you.” She said with a mischievous smile on her face.
“If you’re the scariest thing in the valley, I should count my lucky stars.” What on Yoba’s green earth was that response? Elliott blushed from embarrassment.
“Ouch. Anyways, I’m glad I caught you! It’s the first of Fall and I have … ta-dah!” The farmer held a picture-perfect pomegranate in her hands. Of course she remembered how much he adored them. Her trademark thoughtfulness was the talk of the town, he wouldn't be surprised if she had a notebook of everyone's favorite things tucked away in her bag.
“I know, you’re speechless. Take it silly or I’m going to turn it into jam.” She was the most adorable person he had ever seen.
“Thank you, this is a beautiful gift. I will treasure it.” His fingertips brushing the palm of her hands as he accepted the fruit. If he were a bold man, he would take her hand and profess his love then and there.
“Anytime Elliott. I’ll . . .see you around!” And just like that, she ran, no, skipped towards Penny and the children. Undoubtedly bearing gifts for all of them.
“Aye, she’s a good lass.” A sudden salty scent overwhelmed Elliott’s senses. Willy, some days it felt like he was Elliott's only friend in this town.
“Yes…” Elliott said quietly. “Catch anything good today Willy?” he said, still watching the farmer laugh while Vincent chased Jas with his new snail. Penny's admonishments falling on deaf ears.
“Just the usual. Time to quench my thirst. Are you going to the Saloon tonight?”
“No, I think I’ll stay home. A writer never rests!” It wasn’t entirely untrue. He could never be a great writer with only one novel to his name.
“Suit yourself. Have a good evening lad.”
Willy walked towards the group of giggles, earning a wave from Penny and the farmer while Jas pinched her nose from the sudden fishy smell. Elliott felt a smile creep on his face as he studied the pomegranate in his hands. If only he could keep her by his side with the very seeds of this gift. But how could he ever rob the valley of its spring?
Turning to face the river once more, the sound of voices fading in the distance. Oh my dearest, Elliott thought, "But thy eternal summer shall not fade."