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You pause by the doorstep of your home, eyes caught on the small parcel left for you, laid just at the door so you won't miss it. You had already checked the mail in the morning on your way to Pierre’s, and you headed right back home, so the carefully wrapped box is brand new. You walk towards the door, sweeping the little box into your arms as your gut urges you to open it.
It’s early winter. The valley’s vast green land has been sprinkled with bright snow, and although you’re used to annual gift exchanges, the Feast of the Winter Star is far off, and names haven’t been handed out yet.
You step through the threshold of your home, studying the gift; it’s wrapped in brown kraft paper- with no handwritten note or printed label. Curiosity flares inside you as you peel the paper open. You’re not sure what you’re expecting. There’s a little plush bear, fuzzy and blue, a similar color to the massive blue one you had received from the museum back during your first year in the valley.
There’s no note.
You give the bear a little squeeze, a smile tugging at your lips.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
“So, did you like your gift?” Emily asks, her voice carries a light melody, and you turn around from where you’re standing in Pierre’s.
You lower the recipe in your hand, grinning, “So you left it, then?”
“No.” Emily grabs a bag of sugar from the shelf. She has a twinkle in her eye, “But you do like it?”
“Yes, it’s adorable, and you totally know who sent it. Don’t make me guess.”
You hate chasing threads and there’s been no sign of your secret gift-giver.
“Sorry, I promised I wouldn’t say.”
“Emily.”
“Okay, if you happen to notice blue fabric scraps in someone else’s trash tonight, well, I suppose I didn't tell you…” Your eyebrows raise, and then Emily scrunches her nose. “Not that I’m encouraging that particular habit.”
You let a laugh spill and thank Emily for her clue. It only hits you as you head home that blue fabric scraps imply the bear was handmade. Its little head and limbs were crafted just for you.
You feel warm at the thought of someone putting so much care into something for you, your cheeks flushing in surprise.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
You let out a huff, setting your boots out by the fire. You’re not sure what to do with your newfound knowledge, but the revelation had you so flustered you took a head dive into the snow on your way home. After a few moments of sneaking around, you were certain the gift had been from Shane, although what that means to you isn’t exactly clear. Other than your heart pounding in your chest. And the butterflies in your stomach.
After two, almost three, years in the valley you had broken through the initial gruff demeanor from Shane and looked into his depths. Both of you are friends now, and although moments between the both of you left you hoping for more, that part had been set aside and nailed tightly away in a box labeled Shane doesn't need any complications right now.
You try to imagine asking him about the bear, but you can picture his denial far too quickly, hands shoving deep into his pockets like he always does when he's feeling defensive, his eyes not meeting yours like he always does when he’s vulnerable. The thought of making Shane uncomfortable over the silly crush you’ve been harboring is encompassed by guilt washing over you.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
Of course, in an unforgiving turn of events, Mayor Lewis writes Shane’s name down on your yearly card. Last year it would have been easy to find a gift for him since you know Shane well enough. Pepper poppers and pizza are easy ways to win him over. He’ll break out a smile for any silly item with chickens, even if he tries to hide it. Those answers seem too easy now, far too minute in comparison to the little cherished bear sitting on your headboard. You groan, burying your head in your hand.
So, you’ll make something from scratch. It’s not a big deal. You’ve always prided yourself on being a good gifter. Well, after a little trial and error during your first few months, once you’ve gotten to know someone, you love to find them the perfect match.
Calcifer lets out a sharp mewl, twinning himself between your legs as he rudely ignores your frayed nerves. You take a deep breath and reach down to scratch his chin, his orange fur puffing up as he slams his head against your hand.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
There’s a pounding at your door. You scramble out of bed, quickly making yourself a little more decent before tugging open your door. It’s the middle of the night and you’re both concerned and annoyed with whoever has woken you up.
Shane is at your door.
Your heart flutters despite the annoyance and Shane is suddenly hovering a little closer than you're used to. Your giddiness quickly subsides when you see the look in his eyes. Haunted, restless. He’s shaking a little. It reminds you far too much of standing on the cliffside with him months ago.
“Shane?”
“Uh, you got any coffee?”
A moment later, you’re brewing a pot, standing in the kitchen, and tapping your food restlessly on the gray checkerboard linoleum you haven’t gotten around to replacing. The anger that had stepped aside has returned, brewing inside you waiting to bubble over. He hasn’t said a word or answered a single question since the two of you shuffled into your kitchen. He’s wearing pajamas, his battered blue jacket slung over top, and his hands are shoved into his pockets. His boots are still on, half-melted snow dragged over your floorboards. His laces are untied. You don’t know why that frustrates you further.
“Start talking,” You demand as you sit down, pushing a warm cup in front of him in the chicken print mug he had bought you in some sort of celebration for getting your first coop.
He takes a long sip, almost downing half the cup before slamming it on the table.
“Have you been drinking?” You ask before you can think it through.
“No,” He bites out, sending you a deadly look.
You immediately feel guilty for asking. You know it’s not where your mind should jump to, that you need to trust him. “I’m sorry. That wasn't fair. Why are you- It’s the middle of the night and you wake me up for coffee.”
He sighs, leaning back in the chair and studying the floor. Calcifer creeps into the room, head held high as if he’s making a mockery of the tension. You roll your eyes.
“No, you’re right, sorry.”
You wait for him to continue, nudging his foot with your own.
“Nightmare.” He laments.
You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do with that.
Getting Shane to open up to you is a fifty-floor dig through the mines. He’s always been this way. You wish he’d give you a little more to work with. You hate the fact that he’s worried about you, though. His boot taps lightly against your toe.
“I guess I just needed to make sure you were okay.”
“Still here,” You promise. “But, maybe next time you just stop by in the morning.”
He smiles, “Maybe this was overkill.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” You supply.
On his way out he stumbles at the sight of the bear proudly on display, and you pretend not to notice. He thanks you for the coffee, rubbing sheepishly at his neck. When he’s left you press your forehead to the door and let a laugh escape you. You’re more besotted than you want to admit.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
After Emily’s explanation and months of practice, admittedly, you knew how to handle a sewing machine. It only takes a little bit of shopping for material and practice to put it together. You’re proud of it. There’s no reason Shane wouldn’t like it, Emily had even garnished it with full praise, but part of you is still worried he won’t.
You’re holding onto the box in the center of the town square, waiting. You’ve already shuffled through most of today's crowd, excited to catch up with everyone and bask in the glowy feelings the Feast of the Winter Star always brings to you. Shane isn’t anywhere to be found, though Emily winks at you as she scoops jello onto her plate, and you choose not to worry.
You find a seat by Maru’s side for the time being, listening to her ramble about her winter. She had gotten Penny a beautiful stationery set. Robin showed off the new winter boots Marnie had gotten her, and Demetrius showed you the vinyl record Pierre tracked down for him.
“You have a visitor,” Sebastian said through a mouthful of roasted duck, interrupting the start of Demetrius’ story about his first concert.
You whip your head around, and Shane is standing behind you.
“Hey,” He says, eyes flickering over the gathering at the table before landing on you.
You feel suddenly shy, stuttering out your own hello as you stand, scooping up your wrapped gift. Shane glances down at it before he leads you away towards the entrance that leads back to your farm. You catch Marnie’s eye, a light smirk on her lips, as you both go and suddenly your body feels all too warm.
He opens his mouth to speak but- “Actually, can I go first?”
Shane chuckles and holds out his hands. You hand over the box, the brush of his hand against yours making both of you startle.
He unwraps it. Holds up the denim jacket to himself, grinning. It’s embroidered at the bottom, a line of chickens, red peppers, and Jas’ favorite flower- a fairy rose.
“Oh,” The details catch his eyes and he pulls them closer to his eye. “You embroidered it?”
“Yeah. Well, I made the jacket too, but the embroidery was the hardest part.”
“You’re incredible.”
The rest of your explanation dies on your tongue.
“This is really…” His voice trails away as he rubs his thumb over the embroidery. “Thank you.”
You smile at him, shrugging. He hangs his old jacket over the fence and slips on the denim. It looks good on him, and you feel content knowing your work is right at home hanging off his frame.
“I kind of already got you a present,” He admits. “I didn’t think I’d draw your name.”
“I might have put that together.”
You both laugh, inching a little closer, drawn in by the glow of one another.
“Did you like-”
“I didn’t even know you could sew. It’s perfect, it’s so cute.”
Shane smiles at you warmly and leans in a little closer, there's not much room between you both now, and, “I got you something else.”
“You really didn’t have to.”
“Let me know if I’m overstepping,” He warns, ignoring the grace you give him.
You shake your head, intending to voice that you’d take all he has to offer, but then he pulls out a bouquet of beautiful and bright flowers. The colors are vivid and fresh, with a tight white bow around the stems. The combination is familiar. The smile on your lips is unmistakable and Shane’s words die right on his tongue, his free hand suddenly on your jaw. “It’s a valley tradition,” He mumbles. You’re nodding, you’ve been told as much before. “I’d really love it if you’d be my-”
You press your lips to his, overly eager and far more giddy than you’ve been all year.
Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re careful not to smush the flowers between both of you. His skin is warm against yours, the kiss is steady and he tastes like a candy cane.
“Yes?” Shane prompts with a gleam in his eyes.
“Of course.”
He dives in for another kiss.