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A roaring fire crackles and snaps in the oversized hearth in the newly renovated community center. Pelican Town villagers gather around the ten foot Winter Star tree, fully decked out in winking lights and colorful, handmade ornaments. The faces you love most reflect the bright lights of the tree, the warmth of the fire, the joy of sharing gifts with each other. The fragrance of brown sugar glazed ham, buttery potatoes, and citrusy apple cider intermingle and thread through the air, remnants of one of the best Winter Star feasts Gus has ever put together.
You should be utterly content: what more could you ask for than a full belly, a comfy armchair, and your closest friends beside you? Instead, a gnawing impatience claws at the inside of your ribs. You don't feel particularly merry, just... restless.
It took over an hour for the gift-giving portion of the festival to finally wind down. You smiled fondly as Jas squealed over her new makeup kit from Emily, filled with oily lipsticks and glittery eye shadows. Harvey clapped his hands together in delight when he unwrapped a set of paintbrushes. Overwhelmed by affection for your partner, you had leaned over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
At some point soon after, Harvey had wandered off, probably to help Gus clean up the dishes.
You sat politely through the rest of the gifts, waiting your turn as patiently as possible. Finally, there was only one gift left under the giant, sparkling tree, and it had to be yours.
You’re itching to get through the festival and get home, and for good reason: you have a proposal to make.
The past year has been a whirling cacophony of change, from finishing your renovations of the community center to installing a new system of sprinklers on the farm to finally asking Harvey to move in with you. You’ve been busy, to say the least.
You readily admit that there have been times when you thought the stress of it all was too much to handle. Moments when you’ve been convinced that hammering in one more nail, harvesting one more crop, or fixing one more screwed-up water line would be the end of you.
Your saving grace was Harvey. Not in his capacity as a doctor, by any means. Since he moved in with you, you’ve been curating a small mental collection of snapshots of your life together that you can leaf through when times are hard: the sight of his shoes next to yours in the entryway; the tea that he prepared for you every night before bed without asking; the way his hand would casually, almost instinctively drift over to hold yours at night when you read together on the couch, one thumb rubbing lightly over your knuckles.
When the fall harvest worked your fingers to the bone, you took a deep breath and flipped to the memory when he first told you he loved you, all soft eyes and nervous smiles and fingers laced through yours.
When the sprinklers in the west fields gave up the ghost for no good reason, you clenched your jaw and turned to the memory where you shared breakfast for the first time – strong coffee, fresh eggs, soft cinnamon rolls. A sweet kiss to your cheek, reassurances that he hadn’t burned anything.
A few weeks ago, you added a new moment to your collection after the two of you had blushed through a conversation about getting married. Harvey was just as adamant as you were that you wanted a lifetime together – you felt it in your bones. So, filled with a doniferous spirit, you had gotten your hands on a mermaid shell pendant and had come up with the perfect plan. Tonight, in front of the roaring fireplace in your cabin, you’re going to propose to him. Your Harvey.
So, with an itchy sort of impatience and a smile plastered to your face, you kneel down and pick up a small box wrapped in green and gold from under the tree. Dimly, you note the sounds of conversation dying away behind you, but your attention is focused on the name on the tag. From Harvey. You shake your head, smiling. You’ve been so preoccupied with your own plans that you didn’t notice he’d drawn your name for the gift exchange.
You push to your feet and turn around, only to be greeted by the faces of expectant villagers. “Go on, dearie,” says Evelyn. “Open it.”
You hesitate. “Shouldn’t I wait for him to come back?”
Evelyn just shakes her head with a smile. You furrow your brows, but unwrap the present with trembling fingers, suddenly sure that this gift was no mere Winter Star trinket. Inside, there is only a slip of paper, covered in Harvey’s indiscernible handwriting. You laugh a little. “Maru, I need a translation. He should have typed it.”
The villagers chuckle when you brandish the spidery cursive, showing it off like every other gift that’s been received so far tonight.
“He’s asking you to meet him outside,” says Maru without bothering to read his note. You tilt your head, more than a little confused.
“We all know what the gift is,” she says, anticipating your question. “Go on, then. He’s by the big oak tree.”
Warmth blooms in your chest as you finally realize what’s happening. You can’t seem to wait a moment longer, the impatience that’s been plaguing you all night morphing into something a little softer, a little kinder. You flash a quick smile, then turn on your heel and walk briskly to the door.
“Don’t forget your coat!” Evelyn calls from her seat near the fireplace. You pause, grab your coat from the rack, and shrug it on as you step into a blast of frosty air, swirling with snow. You round the corner of the community center, and there he is: ankle deep in snow, bundled up in his warmest emerald coat and earmuffs, framed by string lights that fall from the tree in cascading, twinkling rivulets.
A new memory for your collection. You wish you could take a picture.
His eyes crinkle as he smiles at you. It’s the same look you saw on his face during the first examination he gave you, when you were so darn nervous about being in close proximity to him that your pulse skyrocketed. It’s the same look you saw during the first meal you shared at the saloon, when he laughed at some ridiculous thing you said. And now, you see it again, as you brush snowflakes from your eyelashes and smile until your face hurts.
Finally, you join him under the lavishly dripping lights. “Happy Winter Star,” he says, one gloved hand on your cheek as he leans down to kiss you. It’s all softness with him, just like it always is. Soft words, soft lips, soft touches.
“Happy Winter Star,” you murmur. You step closer, drawn to his warmth, and he wraps your hands in his.
“Honey.” He pauses, smiles, and tenderness blooms in his eyes. “The day you moved to Pelican Town, my world shifted. You’ve brought me so much joy. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you in it.”
His eyes snag on your coat, unbuttoned and draping slightly open, and he frowns faintly. He releases your hands and buttons up your coat as he continues.
“From that first spring, you’ve taught me to be brave. I’ve taken chances I never would have taken without your encouragement. I still can’t believe that you made me brave enough to take a hot air balloon ride.” He chuckles as he finishes buttoning the coat, then he brushes a kiss against the inside of your wrist. Clearly dissatisfied with your winter wear, he rubs your hands between his, a futile attempt to keep you warm in the frigid air.
“I promise to take care of you for the rest of my days. I promise to let myself be challenged by you, to love and support you. Will you…”
For the first time he takes a shuddering breath as he reaches into his pocket and holds out an iridescent blue shell with a small bow on it. You smile and step closer, utterly cocooned in light.
“Will you marry me?”
You can’t contain the joy bubbling up inside you. All you can bring yourself to do is chant yes yes yes over and over again as you brush your lips against his. He ties the pendant around your neck, his eyes crinkling in that way you love so much.
Soon, the two of you will return to the community center to the cheers of your friends and neighbors. You’ll shake hands and give hugs and accept well wishes until the sun goes down, all traces of impatience gone. Once you get home, you’ll show Harvey the pendant you bought and give him the speech you prepared – after all, he deserves a proposal of his own.
But for now, you embrace him. You whisper that you love him, working to remember every detail of this moment – the brush of cold air against your cheek, the smell of emerald wool, an oak tree bedecked in snow and light. You close your eyes as his arms tighten around you, knowing that your Winter Stars will only get better from here.