Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The smoke drifting from the end of his cigarette curled into the fog that clung low to the ground around the lake ahead of him, both melding together and lending an otherworldly appearance to a setting he saw almost every single day.

Sebastian loved Fall nights—when it was cool, slightly breezy, and the only noises were the frogs and the quiet crackle that the tobacco sometimes made when he inhaled. It was no different that night, as he sat in his usual spot on the old fallen tree by the lake, the dark blanket of sky keeping him comfortable and safe. Sometimes he could catch movement from animals if he looked hard enough—deer through the trees to his right, fish in the water, an owl overhead—things seemed still at that moment.

Another inhale, the end of his cigarette growing brighter for a split second.

Through his exhale of smoke though, something caught his eye. It wasn’t exactly across the lake, but to the north, along the coast where he could still make out shapes in the dark.

It was by the mine entrance.

Whatever it was moved oddly, almost jerking at points, like it was a character in a game glitching out—maybe in one of Abigail’s favorite video—

His train of thought screeched to a halt.

Abigail.

As the shape stepped out from beneath a copse of maples and into the moonlight, he could see the telltale cascade of purple hair that belonged to one of his best friends. What was she doing out here this late?

More importantly, why was she moving like that?

Before he could ask himself any more questions, Sebastian witnessed her rip her vest off, then her shirt and he instantly tensed at what was revealed. There was smoke coming from her arm. 

He had seen Abigail in a bathing suit before, so her midsection and back were nothing new, but Sebastian felt wrong looking while she was clearly in a bra. The smoke, though, he couldn’t tear his eyes away before he knew she was alright.

And she wasn’t.

Her left arm, her shoulder more specifically, where the smoke was coming from, was covered in a green goo, and the silence of the night was shattered when she broke the surface of the lake to submerge herself to her neck in the clear water.

Sebastian felt himself jolt at the sound and it was then that he noticed how fast his heart was beating. At some point he stood from the log, preparing to run over to help her, but how would he have explained himself? Abigail knew he came out here to smoke, but it was later than usual, and how was he supposed to explain that he had been watching her emerge from the mines and now that she was half-naked he was suddenly here to help.

She always said she could take care of herself and he knew her. He knew she could.

Over the sound of his heartbeat hammering in his ears, he could faintly hear her heavy breathing, could barely hear the slosh of water as she pulled herself out of the lake, where she sat next to her discarded clothes, cradling her arm.

The green goo was gone, as was the smoke, but where it had been on her skin was now an angry red.

“Ow,” he hissed, as a pain flared in his fingertips, dropping the forgotten cigarette that had still been lit in his hand. With a black boot, Sebastian stomped it out and then scolded himself for staring before starting off back towards his house.

Abigail would be fine on her own. She always was.

Only nine minutes had passed from when he left the lake to when he returned to make sure Abigail was actually alright. She had still been laying in the same place she had when he told himself to go home and without hesitation (or second thought, because he knew if he stopped to think about it he’d just go home again) he threw her shirt and vest over his shoulder and then gathered her in his arms, being mindful of the sword strapped to her back.

He had questions about that, of course, but he was more worried about her well-being at the moment and he most certainly wasn’t going to bring her to her own house where her parents would no doubt go berserk over whatever she had been doing.

Sebastian wouldn’t need to wake anyone up though, no one had to know about this.

Everyone at his house was already asleep and sneaking her to his basement room would be no issue. Getting her out was another story, but that was something he’d worry about in the future. Abigail had to be alright to leave in the first place and the fact that she hadn’t woken up while he was carrying her was the emergency at hand.

Maybe he would have to wake someone else up.

After gently setting her in his bed, he retrieved the first aid kit from his mother’s storefront and returned to her side, treating what looked like a burn on her arm where the slime she washed off had been. Some of it seemed to have spread to her armpit and chest and Sebastian found himself tugging the strap of her bra off of her arm to treat that part as well. He cleaned the dirt from her face afterwards, delicately running a wet cloth across her cheekbones and down her jawline, chewing on his lip out of worry that she still hadn’t stirred. 

Later, as he sat on the couch across his room observing her, legs crossed under him and teeth now gnawing the inside of his cheek nervously, Sebastian finally noted how it all must look.

Abigail was in his bed (which was unmade and disheveled, like usual), shirt and vest dropped on the ground next to it, bra strap hanging off of one shoulder while her hair spread out in a messy halo of purple around her face. 

His heart leapt when she moved, shifting slightly to her side and nestling her cheek into his pillow, a small noise escaping her as she did. The sight of her in the dim light of his bedside lamp, the pale glow barely reaching her pursed lips and the curve of her breasts over the lace of her bra, brought an uncomfortable flush to his cheeks and he swallowed a mouthful of dry air, moving his gaze to anything else.

She was sleeping now, it appeared, and that comforted him enough to lie down on the couch and finally get some rest.

Bolting upright, Abigail found herself in a bed that wasn’t hers, but in a room she instantly recognized. The first thing that came back to her was the searing pain of the slime that had attached itself to her left arm—the second thing was getting out of the mines to the lake to wash it off.

Then how did she get here?

How did she get to… Sebastian’s room?

Letting her eyes adjust to the light of the basement, Abigail noticed him then, across the room, curled up on his side on the black couch she had sat on countless times in her life. His eyes were shut and his hood was up, his head resting on one of the uncomfortable decorative pillows his mother insisted he keep with the couch.

“It makes your room look more habitable and welcoming,” Robin always said about them. 

(Abigail agreed. Sometimes the room did look like it needed a little sprucing up.)

She could feel a heat rise in her cheeks when she spotted her shirt and vest next to the bed on the carpet. Luckily, it seemed like no one else had come in and observed the scene—or her shirtless—except…

Looking back to Sebastian, she watched him for a moment before slipping out of his bed and padding across the room to the couch, where she leaned over and grabbed the blanket off of the back then softly laid it over him. She had noticed the bandage on her arm, and most definitely noted how cleanly and well placed it was, and brought her lips to hover over his ear before whispering a quick thank you to him. 

It was still early. She knew just about everyone’s schedules in Pelican Town and was sure if she could get her shirt, vest, and boots back on in the next minute, she could be out and back to her own house before Maru, Demetrius, and even Robin were out of bed. Then it was just a matter of sneaking back in through the window of her room, which she had done many times before after going to the graveyard or the mines at night. That would be no issue.

What she didn’t expect after slipping out the front door of the mountain house was Linus strolling by, a blackberry in his hand and a yawn leaving him.

She froze for a moment, sword in her hand and bandage on her arm, and they locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Linus gave her a pleasant smile and nodded.

“Don’t worry, miss. I won’t say a word. About any of it.”

Abigail let out something between a sigh of relief and a chuckle before thanking him and taking off in a jog towards the center of town. 

She hoped any of it meant the sword. And the mines, because she was sure Linus had seen her go in and come out of them many nights from his tent. 

The thought of any of it including the fact that she was leaving Sebastian’s house early in the morning didn’t even cross her mind on her way home.

Later that day when she was buried in her oversized bean bag under a blanket playing Journey of the Prairie King, it finally did.

She threw her blanket off at the awkward heat that had flooded her body at the thought.

Chapter Text

Almost a week went by before he saw her again, and if Sebastian didn’t know any better, he’d say Abigail was actively avoiding him because she knew she would need to explain herself. He knew he would see her at the Spirit’s Eve festival though—there was no way she was missing that one. 

When he made his way down to the town square, Sebastian saw Abigail staring at the cage of skeletons, her eyes glazed over and far away as she watched them. With one last inhale of his cigarette, he put it out and threw the butt in a garbage can on the way over to her. It only took their eyes meeting through the cage for a split second before she turned away and made a beeline up towards the maze.

She was avoiding him.

Sebastian knew her though, just like he did Sam—in some ways almost as well as they knew themselves. She could try to hide from him in the maze, but he knew there was a point in there she wouldn’t pass.

The spiders.

A flash of purple vanished around the entrance hedge of the maze and he followed, trying to stay close and keep an eye on her in the flickers of fire light that lit the surrounding hedges.

He had been awake the morning he had helped her, and had watched her in his bed through barely open eyes. The way she stretched with her hands over her head and then flinched at the pain on her arm, the way she almost floated across his room to him, covering him up with a blanket and breathing an almost silent thanks… he couldn’t get any of it out of his head. 

And while they were memories that wouldn’t be escaping him anytime soon, Sebastian was adamant about the fact that he’d rather not have those memories at all if it meant she never got injured in the mines.

When she leaned over him that morning, she smelled of earth and ozone, with hints of azalea drifting through.

It hit him again now as he jogged. He passed Haley, Maru, and Elliott along the way—he counted four jack-o’-lanterns—and if memory served him right, the spiders were ahead so all he had to do was turn left and Abigail would be—

Empty. There was no one in the maze clearing except the spiders.

Sebastian sighed, pulling his hands into his hoodie sleeves. Had it been this cold all night or was he just noticing it now?

He could still sense her scent. She had to be nearby.

“Abigail?”

A buzzing came from the pocket of his hoodie. A text.

Abby Gale 🪈: It means so much that you helped me that night, Seb, it really does. But I’m 100% sure you have questions about it all that I don’t know how to answer yet. Things are just… weird with me right now, I don’t know. :\

Her words mentally tugged at something inside of him. The feeling was one he couldn’t exactly place—was it a familiarity to the emotion behind her stumbling confession of something being weird ? Was it guilt or frustration (or both?) at the fact that he was one of her best friends and she couldn’t talk to him about whatever it was?

Sebastian was attempting to place the reaction he was having while his shaky fingers responded to her text, seemingly with a mind of their own.

What if we hung out and I didn’t ask you any of those questions? Just hang out normally, no weird shit, pretend that all never happened for a bit and then when you’re ready you can tell me what’s up.

He had already hit the send button before he reread it and felt another tug in his brain. 

Any answers he might have reached were thrown away when he got a response from her. A photo, and then about ten seconds later, a reply.

Abby Gale 🪈: Soon, I promise. I’m already in bed and cuddled up in my cocoon rn. :)  

The photo was taken with the phone most likely resting on her chest and showed the lower half of her body, laying down in her bed with her dark teal blanket covering her and one of the controllers on her torso. He could see the bump where her feet were and the television down past the foot of her bed where the pause screen of Journey of the Prairie King lit up the dark room.

Peering up from his phone, Sebastian then shoved the device in his pocket and shifted to the closest wall of the maze, hands meeting greenery and branches and head suddenly poking out over the top of the hedge. One of the outer walls of the maze was very close to the back of Pierre’s General Store—and Abigail’s room. The top of the maze walls were right next to a tree that reached her windowsill on the second floor.

How had she gotten there so fast?

How often do you go down in the mines?

That text was left unsent.

Another day, another lecture from her father as she attempted to leave the house. He had done that thing he loved so much where he was giving her a stern talking to with his quiet voice which was basically just a stage whisper that he thought no one else in the store could hear.

Abigail could see the awkward expressions as every patron in the small establishment—Jodi, Penny, and Gus, at the moment—tried to keep their attention very lasered on whatever products they were perusing. She stopped caring the moment he called her “young lady” and then she had begun counting the leaves on the plant next to the counter, trying to ignore the tension in her shoulders and the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her dad—or her mom, too—but they still treated her like a child. And someone on the tail end of college courses wasn’t a child as much as they wanted her to still be.

It was frustrating. There were so many other words she could use to describe the way she felt about everything but that was the one that made the most sense. 

She knew living under their roof meant following their rules and that was understandable, but why were they the same exact rules she had since she was in elementary school, sitting between Emily and Sam in class and daydreaming about other worlds? Why did she still have a curfew? Why did she still have to ask permission to dye her hair?

Her parents were afraid of change. While on the surface she called it stupid, she knew deep down there was part of her that felt the same.

It had been different since the newcomer moved into the old farm west of town. Sam had been spending a lot of his time with them, leaving both her and Sebastian to their own devices more often than not. Abigail was happy for him, and the farmer seemed really cool—they had even helped her beat part of Journey of the Prairie King she had been stuck on—but sometimes doing something that she used to do with both Sam and Sebastian just seemed off now. Pool, Solarian Chronicles, festivals, band practice… it was all bittersweet. It was a change.

And one of the reasons she had been spending more time in the mines.

With a sigh, Abigail stood in the center of the crossing that spanned the river, her father’s store down the path on one side of the bridge and Joja Mart on the other side, peering at her reflection in the water below. The ripples were small and calm that afternoon, despite the early Winter chill that crept up her sleeves and across her cheeks.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like spending time with only Sebastian, in fact, she enjoyed that more than she liked to admit. But it had always been the three of them. Plus, Sebastian had been getting more into his work lately—way more focused on getting out of the valley and into the city. Then who would she have?

Her heart beat faster at the thought of Sebastian leaving Stardew Valley, in a way that made her breath catch uncomfortably. It was almost like the beginning of a panic attack and she clenched her jaw, attempting to steer her mind anywhere else, but kept coming back to having to say goodbye to him in the near future—the way she knew she’d have to swallow back tears and paste a smile on her face to wish him good luck in the city.

Blinking, she realized that water had risen in her eyes, at the mere thought of him going—at the dread that had settled over her. Abigail hadn’t processed it and she wasn’t sure she ever would. Every single time he brought up leaving it was like a wall went up in her mind, like a song had started playing to drown out his proclamations of moving and living his life somewhere more full of everything.

He was one of her best friends, she knew she owed him more than that.

A scuff of a boot over rock sounded ahead of her and she looked up from the river to see Sebastian coming up the way, a cigarette in one hand and the other in his hoodie pocket. He took a drag as he climbed the path, smiling at her in a tired, familiar way when their eyes met, and before she knew it, she was wiping her eyes with her jacket sleeve and speed walking towards Joja Mart.

How was she supposed to face him right now?

It had been a couple of weeks since Spirit’s Eve when she said they would talk, and now she was circling the drain of an anxious episode over the thought of him leaving.

He couldn’t see her like this.

After jogging behind Joja Mart and up towards the Adventurer’s Guild, Abigail tossed a glance over her shoulder and found no one, promising herself she’d send him an apology text when she made it to the mines. She hadn’t planned to go there that day, but she was sure it would help her calm down.

Not even a descent into the mines themselves, but just sitting inside the entrance, listening to the echoing drips of water from the rock ceiling—that would help her enough at that moment.

With a deep breath, she gave a quick peek around to make sure no one was watching and then slipped into the mines, pulling herself up on the edge of the minecart just inside to catch her breath. She gave her eyes another wipe, dragging the black sleeve of her jacket across them and when she moved her arm back down to her lap, she was surprised to see Sebastian in front of her, arms crossed and an eyebrow arched.

The shock of him there almost knocked her off balance, but Sebastian caught her arm before she could fall back into the minecart.

“Whoa there,” he said as his hand clasped around her forearm. His grip instantly slackened once he seemed sure she was balanced again and she found herself marveling at his reflexes. 

He would have been a big help on adventures.

“Seb,” she exhaled, knowing she couldn’t get out of this one.

“Hey, if you don’t want to talk—”

“It’s Friday. I’ll be at the saloon tonight.” 

Sam had texted both of them earlier saying he’d be missing pool that night cause he and the farmer were going away for the weekend. It would be a perfect opportunity for her to hopefully get some coherent words out.

“You sure? You’ve missed the past four Fridays.”

“I promise,” Abigail said, putting her right hand out ahead of her, her thumb and pinky sticking out.

It was something they used to do with Sam when they were younger and making all kinds of goofy, childish promises—a pinky swear with a thumb war.

Only seconds went by before Sebastian covered her thumb with his.

“Gotcha,” he murmured.

“Always have,” she said, then pushed off of the minecart and passed him, exiting the mine into the cold of Stardew’s Winter once more.

Chapter Text

The talk they had the Friday before at the saloon was better than nothing, but Sebastian could tell Abigail was still holding stuff back from him. She had admitted that it was odd not having Sam around, and he agreed. She had told him her parents still treated her like a kid and it drove her mad, which he kind of knew… but she had danced around things verbally. The mines were never brought up. Her injury was never brought up.

Sebastian didn’t want to push her though, figuring she would talk on her own time.

He had his own things to worry about anyways. There was a project he had due for a client in two days and the bugs in the code were still out of control. Working through the night might be his only option.

And of course, today was the day Sam wanted to come over, Harvey had texted him, and Alex wanted to stop by to borrow a book because he didn’t know “It Howls In The Rain” had been a book before a movie.

The distractions always came at the worst times.

He loved his friends, he really did, but it never failed, on days he had too much work—

The door to his room swung open and over the top of his monitor he saw a shock of purple hair come in, stopping in the center of the basement and looking over to him. 

Abigail’s eyes were bloodshot and her arms were crossed over her chest. She seemed to register what he was doing for a moment and then looked at the ground.

“I’m so sorry, Sebastian. I know you’re working right now… I… Do you mind if I just… hang out here for a bit? I won’t say anything, I won’t bug you, I just…”

Sebastian could see from his chair in the corner that she was shaking. Moving the keyboard from his lap, he stood and ignored the way his back cracked as he crossed the worn wooden floor to her. At first he said nothing, just grabbed the blanket from his couch and threw it around her shoulders before shutting the door and nudging her booted feet with his own.

“Take your shoes off, Abs, get comfy.” 

She moved towards the couch as he made his way back to the computer, where he pulled up his inbox and prepared to answer a couple of emails to different clients. They were progress check emails, nothing too in-depth, and he found himself leaning back in his seat a bit as he typed, casting glances between the two monitors on his desk to check on Abigail. 

Her legs were pulled up under her and she was staring ahead, eyes glazed over and lips pursed. The dim light of his bedroom cast across her in that very specific way again, reminding him of how she looked curled up in his bed and the breathy sounds she had made when she turned over then settled and stretched after she had woken up—

There was no way he was getting any work done with her here, but that wasn’t her fault at all. He knew he could get too easily distracted.

And his worries about her were still brewing in his brain. Especially now.

Finishing up the emails, he prepared to buckle down and focus on the code that covered the screen ahead of him, but realized that he was watching her between the monitors again. Her gaze was far away for a moment, but she must have felt him looking because she shook herself out of her trance.

“I’m sorry, you’re trying to get work done. I should go,” she said. After speaking, she moved to stand.

“Abigail,” he said, his voice slightly more forceful than he meant it. “Please, sit. Chill out here.”

She hesitated for a moment before relaxing slightly. Sebastian watched as she kicked her boots off and laid down on the couch, completely covering herself with the blanket he had given her.

“Pretend I’m not here,” came her muffled voice from under the dark fabric.

He chuckled and went back to his work.

“Maybe you’re my good luck charm.”

Sebastian’s words to her earlier that day popped into her head repeatedly—once on her way home after he woke her up and told her her mother called Robin asking if she was there, twice when she was finishing up some homework for the Gothic Literature class that was in her current course lineup, countless times when she was getting ready for the meeting at the Community Center that night, and it wouldn’t stop as she followed her parents up the path towards the building on the hill.

He wouldn’t be there. Sure, he had finished the project he needed to wrap up for his client (thanks to her presence, apparently) but he was the last person in the valley that she expected to see at a Town Hall meeting. She was dragged by her parents, mostly because of the free meatball dinner Gus was providing afterwards. Her father also claimed it would be a “great networking opportunity” for the shop, even though most people in the valley already shopped at his place and changing Joja customers’ minds was never easy.

But whatever her father said, went, like it always did.

She used most of her willpower to keep her eyes from rolling at the thought, but she managed.

Settling into her seat, her thoughts drifted as Mayor Lewis began speaking about the economic boost the new farm had brought to their town, pointing out the owner of the farm in the front row of the small crowd. Sam was seated next to them, beaming. He looked happier than Abigail had ever seen him. It brought a warmth to her heart that a cold voice somewhere inside her head was trying to extinguish with words like alone and change and you have nothing permanent.

Ignoring the voice proved difficult and her eyes darted in a rising panic, her muscles tensing as she sat up straighter, when her phone buzzed in her pocket.

She was thankful—it could even have been a spam text and she would be thankful—as it ripped her from the spiral she had almost begun to roll down. As she looked at her phone though, it was something much more welcome than a spam text. Something much more personal.

It was something she wanted.

Seb 🐸: Hey Good Luck Charm. Lookin’ kinda off. You okay?

Lowering the phone, Abigail tried to look nonchalant to her parents seated next to her as she scanned the crowd. She finally spotted Sebastian across the aisle and one row back seated beside his mother, Maru, and Demetrius. He raised his eyebrows at her briefly before Robin leaned over to speak to him about something and Abigail turned her attention back to her phone.

Just tired, I think, she sent back. 

Seb 🐸: Funny, you looked like you had a good nap on my couch earlier while I was getting all that work done. 

She felt a smile cross her face.

I did. I guess everything is finally catching up with me. My brain just… doesn’t want to cooperate with my body anymore and they’re at war with each other. 🫥

No response came until they were all seated at the long table that had been set up for dinner, spaghetti and meatballs on everyone’s plates and chatter filling the main hall of the Community Center. Sebastian was across the table and two people down from her, between Sam and Robin, and Abigail found herself across from the farmer, who she fell into deep conversation with for most of the meal about the creatures of Stardew Valley and how interesting some of them acted. 

Luckily, her father was too busy networking and her mother too busy gossiping with Jodi to hear her and the farmer talking about the mines.

Seb 🐸: Yeah, you know you still need to fill me on everything happening… again though, whenever is good, whenever you feel comfortable. Finding one of my best friends injured outside the mines still haunts my dreams sometimes though JUST SAYING. :)

As she read the text, Abigail could feel her face flush. She could picture the exact look Sebastian would have on his face if she looked up at him then and she told herself to just keep her head down and respond.

I know, Seb!!! I guess it’s just hard for me to put into words. I kind of know what’s wrong but don’t know how to convey it all like a proper, put together human being, you know?

Seb 🐸: Proper, put together human beings are overrated. Is it easier this way?

Typing it?

She sent the question and peered across the table over to him. When he looked up from her message and their gazes met, her heart jumped. It could have been the muted glow of the Community Center’s homely lighting or maybe she was imagining it, but his eyes looked softer than she had ever seen them, gentler, more forgiving a gaze than she had ever witnessed from him. And he was looking at her like that, giving her space and time and care.

How was she supposed to exist without that when he moved to the city?

He nodded.

I owe you more than that, Seb. You deserve more than texts.

Seb 🐸: Bah, I don’t deserve shit, Abigail. I’m just worried about you. I’m in your debt anyways, since you helped me finish that project earlier. :)

I didn’t even do anything, I was sleeping.

Seb 🐸: Still kind of weird that I figured all the issues with the code out while you were there, yeah? 

Peering up at him again, she found him staring at her and he shrugged comically at his own question to her before getting another plate of spaghetti.

Her chuckle was hidden behind her free hand and the flush on her cheeks deepened when she realized Sam and the farmer were picking up on the fact that they were texting across the table. 

The text thread was quiet until after dinner, when everyone had departed the Community Center, some heading home, some heading to the Stardrop Saloon. From her window she could see the front of the Community Center and in the dark she could see a tiny spark of light.

Are you out front of the CC still? Is that your cigarette?

Seb 🐸:  Maybe……………. Why?

Her question was answered before his response came because of the light from his phone screen. Abigail smiled for a moment. The sigh that left her afterwards  sounded like it should have come from a person who had lived a full life; it had years behind it, not the stresses of a girl in her mid-20’s who was doing the ten year plan in college, as her father put it. She knew she needed to talk to Sebastian, but she also knew what would happen.

She would fumble over her words, not know what to say; it happened every single time she talked to someone she cared about. It was why she never tried to talk back to her parents—even though she wanted to tell them what she wanted to do with her life, why they needed to back off a little bit—she knew she would get frustrated and just storm off.

Opening the window, the cold Winter air spilling into her room, Abigail squinted, watching the shadow of a shape in front of the Community Center. The cigarette burned brighter for a moment and the shape bristled. She leaned her elbows on the windowsill and brought her phone up.

Aren’t you cold out there?

Seb 🐸:  I don’t get cold.

Hmmmm. I don’t believe it.

Seb 🐸: What would you do if I said I was? What would it change?

Invite you in.

Seb 🐸:  I’ll be fine. 

What if I said I would talk?

Seb 🐸:  Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. I don’t believe it.

Her scoff carried across the cold night, far enough that she got another text.

Seb 🐸:  I heard that.

I was in the mines because I want to explore them. I’ve lived here all my life and I’m sick of the same thing every single day. There’s more to this valley and I want to discover it.

Seb 🐸:  Do you go down there to let off steam? Slay monsters?

If I get attacked I slay them, but I don’t go out of my way to do that. And yeah, I’ve let off steam. There are a lot of weird batches of shrubs down there I like to practice swordsmanship on and they’re good targets when I’m fed up with everything. That all sounds ridiculous now that I’m typing it out but yeah, that’s why I was down there. And that night I guess I got overwhelmed and a slime leapt at me while I was busy lighting a cherry bomb for a bit of  pretty amethyst I came across. Man, this is really embarrassing reading it back…

Seb 🐸:  I almost stayed in my house that night cause I knew you could take care of yourself. Glad I came back out to make sure. I was really worried about you.

Thank you again. It’s dumb. I shouldn’t have been down there. I feel like it’s just one of the only things I have for myself.

Seb 🐸:  I won’t tell anyone.

Yeah, but now you know.

Seb 🐸:  I’m not special enough to be allowed to know? I’m offended. :0

You know that’s not what I meant!

Seb 🐸:  :P 

Seb 🐸:  Alright, I’m headed home now. Thanks for opening up to me the slightest, tiniest bit, Abs.

Seb 🐸:  I’m cold. :) 

Abigail fell asleep that night wondering how warm Sebastian’s hoodie was.

Chapter Text

A pocket knife probably wasn’t the best thing to go down to the mines with, but Sebastian had been angry and not thinking straight when he went in there and climbed down. He just remembered Abigail talking about letting off steam with the shrubs and that was all he could focus on since Demetrius had yelled at him earlier that day about paying more rent to his mother—who said what he was already paying was just fine.

He dodged a number of pale green bugs and had to slay a slime that had clung to his ankle (luckily it didn’t seem nearly as big or poisonous as the one Abigail had faced that night), but he mostly slashed at the gnarled greenery that she mentioned in her texts. 

The buzzing sound was something he didn’t register until he was already being swarmed by a trio of darker green bugs, their wings beating at his face and their stingers glinting in the torchlight nearby.

Sebastian was able to hold out for almost a minute, blindly waving his knife around before one of the stingers came into contact with his wrist and he blacked out.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed once he woke up, but he blearily saw that the torchlight was casting a glow around something hovering above him, a violet-topped shape holding a sword that dripped with a putrid neon green ooze. The pain in his cheeks and arms throbbed and somewhere far away he could feel rocks pushing into his back. He was laying on the ground.

“Nnnngh…”

“Hush, Sebastian, save your energy.”

The shape did have a pretty voice. Very firm, though. Why was it so familiar?

When he awoke, he found himself in his bed, the scents of astringent and earth and… azaleas nearby. He saw the first aid kit from his mother’s shop on his nightstand once more and the shape from the mines, the one that had been topped with purple, seated on the edge of his bed, flipping through one of the Solarian Chronicle guidebooks.

“How—” His voice was raspy and he coughed a couple of times, clearing his throat before trying to speak again. “How did you get me back here?”

Abigail looked up from the book, reaching out and covering one of his hands with her own. “Don’t worry about that now, focus on getting your energy back.”

He opened his mouth to protest when he realized she was right—the most important thing was that he was safe now, thanks to her and he didn’t want to do anything to disturb the feel of her fingertips on his wrist, very gently brushing where one of the stingers had first pricked his skin. She was being so careful, like she always had with those she cared about. 

It sometimes came as a surprise to him how careful she was physically when verbally she always said she couldn’t talk her way out of a paper bag. He knew firsthand she was kind of clumsy when it came to her feelings, but he sort of enjoyed that in a way. She wouldn’t be the Abigail he knew otherwise. 

Twisting his wrist, he turned his hand over, grabbing her fingers in his before she could pull away.

“Thank you, Abs. My ass would have been grass if you weren’t there.”

“I’ve got your back,” she said, a tired smile following her words.

“Always have,” he murmured.

“You should get some sleep, Seb.”

A thousand things sprung to his mind: questions about the mines, ways to get her to stay a little longer, daydreams about their futures he wanted to share, but he nodded, giving her hand a squeeze. She squeezed his hand back—gently, but firm enough to let him know she was there for him.

If he went to the city, it would be a lonely place without her and Sam.

Static had grabbed a hold of her hair as she pulled a dark burgundy sweater over her head and Abigail was busy trying to tame the purple strays when she noticed a thin trail of smoke between her bedroom window and the bare tree outside. Besides that, all that was visible really was a thick blanket of white, crisp snow.

Opening the window and leaning over the sill, her nose was hit with a familiar mix of a certain brand of cigarettes and cedarwood, a scent that always lingered on him from his mother’s shop.

When she looked down, Sebastian was already looking up at her, his face upside-down as he stood with his back to the building’s exterior wall. She figured he heard her window creaking open.

“Shouldn’t you be at the Feast of the Winter Star?” She asked, her lips curling into a smirk.

His own question followed hers in an instant. “Shouldn’t you? ” 

Abigail suddenly wished she was closer to him so the scent of cedarwood that clung to his hoodie overpowered the cigarettes, but she made no move either way, just continued to stare down at him.

“Touché.” A pause. “I was headed down there, actually. Had to grab a sweater.” 

“Come on then,” he said, putting the cigarette out under his boot. She watched as he turned to head around to the front of the shop, but stopped him in his tracks when she reached out and grabbed the closest branch of the tree outside her window, pulling herself out onto one of the thicker ones a little farther down.

Her room would be freezing later when she returned, sure, but at that moment she cared little for future Abigail’s issues and was focused on now Abigail’s sudden urge to be near Sebastian without all the eyes of the town on them. Exiting the front of the shop would bring attention she didn’t want; climbing down the tree behind the shop now would bring attention only from the single person she really welcomed it from (Sam counted too, but in a different way).

As she carefully made her way down the tree, all the correct footholds and handholds coming to her as easily as breathing, she could see that Sebastian had tensed up below her, his arms absently held out in front of him. It gave her a chuckle as she descended.

“What? Are you gonna catch me if I slip?”

“I… I don’t know, I just…” 

He never finished his thought as her feet met the ground safely and she was already brushing the stray bits of bark from her hands as his words trailed off. 

Patches of color had sprung up along his cheeks from the bitter wind, tracing the lines of his cheekbones, and the sight of it caught her off guard. It reminded her of the days when they were much younger, building snow goblins out near Marnie’s farm and how he never had enough layers on to stay warm. It had never been that he didn’t own enough to keep him warm, it had always been that he thought he was too cool to wear all those layers. 

“Only dorks wear layers,” he would laugh, as Sam stood near him with enough clothing on to make his limbs stick out like a starfish.

Now he stood in front of her with a black peacoat over his hoodie, his hands in his pockets and his purple striped scarf pulled up over his mouth. The pink cheeks and wide dark eyes peeking out over the top of the scarf brought a grin to her lips.

“What?” He asked, his voice muffled behind the fabric.

“What was your Winter Star wish?” She asked, ignoring his question about her sudden grin.

Sebastian might have opened his mouth to answer, but because of the scarf she couldn’t tell. The pause before his answer though lent truth to her assumption. As he spoke, she could see him digging his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat.

“Can’t tell you, then it wouldn’t come true.” His voice was quieter than it had been before. 

Abigail scoffed, then leaned down and picked up the cigarette butt he had dropped. “Mine is that you’d quit smoking.” 

She was turning to her left, ready to round the shop and drop the cigarette butt in the trash can out front before joining the rest of the valley’s citizens in the Feast of the Winter Star festivities, but he grabbed the wrist of her free hand to stop her. When their gazes locked again, the color in his cheeks had deepened to a flush.

“Is that it?”

“What do you mean is that it?” Abigail said, suddenly wanting to look away from his searching gaze but finding herself unable. The way his eyes weren’t leaving hers in addition to his fingers still being wrapped around her wrist made her forget about the cold momentarily. “You make it sound so simple and you’ve told me in the past how not simple it is.”

“I never… had a reason to try to stop…”

“Your health?” She said, incredulously.

Sebastian dropped her wrist and finally looked away from her, turning his head and staring out over the winter landscape. He shrugged.

That simple motion wrenched her heart. 

“You can’t think— you can’t be that thoughtless about your…”

It seemed like minutes had passed before he finally murmured. “I mean, I went into the mines with a pocket knife, Abs. Guess I used up a number of the shits I had left to give.”

“Sebastian.” His name came out in a hushed exhale, years of friendship and concern and other feelings she couldn’t exactly identify fueling the emotion it held.

“My wish is that my best friend would talk to me,” he said, finally trailing his stare back to her face, where she watched it shift slowly over her features. The specific gaze, sharp and narrowed, was one she recognized from the times he seemed to be in awe over something—holding a frog, a butterfly landing on his motorcycle, how many stars they could see further up on the mountain. 

When she tried to look away from him, she couldn’t.

“Sam?” Her question came out innocently enough, but she knew better.

He did too.

“The other one.”

Abigail was finally able to tear her attention from him then, peering down at her boots, black and patterned with embossed vines against the still falling snow. The smell of cedarwood was stronger than the cigarettes at that moment and she suddenly wanted to drown in it.

“Is that it?” She countered.

She could see only the upper part of his face contort slightly and she knew the exact look he was making behind the scarf, knowing exactly how his features changed when he wore that familiar smirk. 

It was then she realized how much she had studied his face over the years.

It was then that she knew that Sebastian’s wish had to come true.

Abigail heard him inhale to speak, but it was at that moment Robin came around the corner of the shop and found them both standing underneath the jagged branches of the tree outside of her window. Her smile was warm and welcoming, like it always had been, and she exclaimed how it was time for the titular feast and she wanted to make sure they were both present and that they were both staying warm.

“Come on, before your food gets cold,” Robin said, leading the way towards the long tables set up in the main square.

Abigail followed and through her layers of clothing, she felt a hand at the small of her back. From behind her, a whisper as they all walked.

“You’re shivering.”

“I’m not cold,” she shot back, wondering for the rest of the festivities if he had picked up on her nerves.

Chapter Text

Abby Gale 🪈: You busy?

Not really. Planning out the next Solarian Chronicles session but I really need a break. What’s up?

Abby Gale 🪈: Can you meet me at the playground?

Sure thing. I can be there in five.

As he made his way down the mountain path, a sliver of the moon high overhead and boots crunching over melting snow, Sebastian took a drag off of the cigarette in his hand and pondered how hard it actually would be to quit. Last time he had tried (he had been sick of coughing fits he had started having) the withdrawals had proven too much for him.

It had been easier to just keep smoking.

His stress levels from work were always more manageable with the cigarettes as well.

Sebastian was sure to put the one he was smoking out before he passed the Community Center, though. He hadn’t been doing it as much around Abigail anymore once she had told him she wanted him to stop. 

Normally, he would have scoffed over someone saying that to him, but Abigail and Sam’s opinions always held weight. Sam had said numerous times to him it was dumb and he didn’t need it, but never asked him to quit. Abigail was normally the same, making faces if the smoke was too close to her, or making jokes about it, but the earnest expression she had been wearing when she mentioned her Winter Star wish—even though her voice had that usual sarcastic edge—it wouldn’t leave his mind.

A creaking sound hit his ears at almost the exact moment his eyes caught sight of waves of purple, streaming back and forth, over and over, as he approached the playground.

The swings had always been one of Abigail’s favorite places in Stardew Valley for as long as he could remember. There had been one night when they were both in middle school that they swung next to each other in silence for an hour and a half past midnight. It had been a comfortable quiet, something that they had just grown familiar with in each other’s company.

Sebastian had always found silences intolerable when he was younger, and it was something Abigail had known so she had always tried to fill them. Middle school had been when they both learned that nothing spoken was okay, it was cozy.

As he passed the Community Center, he dropped the butt of his cigarette in the trash can and wiped his hands on his pants. How long had his hands been sweaty?

He heard a voice drift to him from the playground.

“Dressed so dark I almost didn’t see you come up.”

“You sure you didn’t see—”

“No, I was kidding. Your face is as pale as the moon, I saw you a mile away,” she said, her voice changing volume as she swung back and forth. Even with the movement it was easy to pick up on the mirth in her words. 

Some of the tension left his body then, thankful that she hadn’t asked him to meet her because something bad had happened at home. Curiosity still lingered though.

Waiting until she began an arc backwards, Sebastian crossed in front of her and sat on the other swing, pushing off with his boots and picking up momentum until he was matching Abigail’s motion.

The wind was crisp, the night air still cool and dry. Spring was so close but Winter was holding on, clutching at the valley with a biting grip.

They said nothing for a few minutes, but Sebastian did catch her gaze with his a couple times when they passed and after a bit, she slowed her swing, dragging the tips of her boots in the bark chips below. He didn’t follow until she had stood and moved towards the small climbing wall, easily pulling her way to the top and seating herself there, cross-legged and eyes locked on him.

Following her up, he sat beside her, dangling his legs off the top and listening to the steady noise of the fountain closeby. It had just been refilled and turned back on yesterday—another sign Spring was on its way.

“Did you want me to meet you here to just chill?” He fiddled with the hems of his hoodie sleeves as he spoke. “I mean, I’m completely fine with that, but I was just wondering. It feels good to take a break—I had three guidebooks open that I was taking notes from.”

She took a few moments to answer and Sebastian found that his heart had sped up a bit—it apparently didn’t appreciate the suspense. 

“I wanted you to meet me here cause maybe you’d get your Winter Star wish.”

He dramatically gasped in a mocking fashion, placing his hand to his chest for extra effect. “Sam is finally gonna talk to me?” 

Even in the pale light of the crescent moon overhead he could see the roll of her eyes and he chuckled, gnawing on his lip for a moment before adding, “Am I really?” 

Abigail didn’t answer but dipped her head, suddenly fidgeting with the rings on her fingers. He recognized (and absolutely felt seen by) the gesture, pulling his sleeves over his hands so he couldn’t fidget himself. That was all they needed—both of them awkwardly messing with stuff while having what might be some sort of a conversation Sebastian had been waiting for—and possibly dreaming of… or having nightmares of… depending on how said conversation went. 

“I wanted to thank you again for helping me that night at the mines,” Abigail said, still intently watching her own hands. “I would have been in a lot more trouble if you hadn’t found me. With my parents and with Harvey.”

“How’s your arm?”

Shuffling a bit, Abigail opened her jacket and pulled the sleeve down to reveal her shoulder peeking out of a gray tank top. It had scarred over, but Sebastian could still recognize the injury—the burn—exactly.

A sigh left him at the sight, the memories of her pale and injured still something that came to his mind often, unbidden and always at the weirdest times. His hands curled into fists inside the hoodie sleeves and it was a relief he had stuffed them in there because one of his first instincts had been to reach out and gently trace the lines of the faded injury.

“I told you I almost left you there, right?” he absently offered, still staring at her shoulder.

“What?” There was no offense in her question, just a slight but genuine shock.

Sebastian ripped his gaze away from her shoulder, bringing it up to her face. “You’ve always been able to take care of yourself. I figured you’d come to when I was… I don’t know… fiddling with…” He motioned with a sleeve-covered hand to her shoulder and everything that surrounded it. “...you and give me a what the hell are you doing? ” 

The voice he had put on with the last few words were apparently enough of a perfect impression of Abigail and her inflections that she let out a loud laugh, clapping her hand over her mouth. Once she caught her breath, she turned somewhat solemn and nodded. He figured she was thinking about that night again.

“It was more serious than I thought when I dunked myself in the lake. I was gonna lay down for a second after that and guess I just… passed out. So yeah, I’m grateful for what you did. And I was injured, Seb, come on. I wasn’t gonna wake up and accuse you of trying to cop a feel or something. I would hope one of my best friends didn’t turn out to be one of those dudes.”

“Those dudes?” He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “What, you mean I’m not a nice guy?”

Their shared chuckles carried out over the night, bringing a certain warmth to the little perch they shared next to the top of the playground slide. Sebastian managed to tear his eyes away from her for a moment to peer across the path towards the back of her house—the shop—to make sure no lights had come on. It was common knowledge to him that Pierre wouldn’t be too happy about Abigail being out late to meet him. Outside. Alone.

“I mean, you aren’t the nicest,” she said, the playful edge still apparent.

They both then said at the same time, sharing a grin: “Sam.”

He won that title. And he actually was a legitimate nice guy.

Sebastian watched as Abigail tilted her head back, resting it on the railing behind her, blue eyes glazing over as she seemed to visually trace constellations while he did the same with her features. Letting the silence settle between them, Sebastian shifted to lay down on the platform, hands behind his head and boots resting on the slide. 

After a few minutes and without warning, Abigail moved to lay next to him, the shoulder that had been injured back in her jacket and pressed against his. Their heads were next to each other and their height difference made it so that her boots didn’t reach his on the slide. Sebastian didn’t think she was going to move from her spot seated against the railing, but he wasn’t mad that she did. 

Even if it meant he couldn’t look at her without being absolutely obvious anymore.

“It’s just—” She stopped speaking as soon as she started and Sebastian said nothing, hoping she’d continue. “I’m sorry I’ve been weird the past few months.”

He made a positive noise, urging her to keep going, feeling as though a verbal and emotional dam might have been about to break (he knew her better than either of them wanted to admit). Maybe his Winter Star wish actually was coming true.

“With Sam spending all his time on the farm, we’ve… you and I have been hanging out without him a lot more and it…” Her hand lifted between them and she waved it around a bit, as though it would help the sentence along. “It’s made me think about some… stuff… I guess. I don’t know. With him around and all three of us doing things I could just ignore stuff.”

“Come on, Abs, use your words.” When she scoffed, he continued. “You’re a published poet.”

“Okay, I won one single contest. One single poem in a local magazine. That doesn’t count.”

“You beat Elliott in that contest. Totally counts.”

Sebastian had been quite proud of her when it happened and he would never let her forget it. It was a good poem, too. The first few words of the winning piece had begun to return to him, his mind beginning to recite them, when they came to a screeching halt at what she said next.

“Sam has been at the farm so much and while I am so happy for him and so, so proud of him for this huge step he’s taken, him not being around means you and I are alone more and then I have to confront my stupid fucking feelings.” She inhaled deeply. “I’ve already lost Sam, I can’t lose you too.”

All he could hear after she spoke was his heart hammering in his chest. Could she hear it too? Desperately hoping she couldn’t, Sebastian tried to keep the chill exterior he had perfected over the years in place, hoping his voice wouldn’t waver when he asked his question.

“What do you mean, Abigail?”

“You know exactly what I mean. You’re going to Zuzu City.”

He did know that part. Mentally cursing himself for not being more specific with his question, which he wanted to be more about her said stupid fucking feelings and not how, exactly, she would lose him, he swallowed a mouthful of dry air.

Sure, he wanted to go to the city and he had been saving up to move, but that was when he had nothing in Stardew Valley to keep him there. Nothing to wake up for, nothing to look forward to, nothing holding him—for better or worse. The fact that one of his friends felt this strongly about him going—and the fact that it was Abigail—changed things. She and Sam had always been important to him, but he figured they’d all grow apart one day.

Sebastian had always thought he had been the one who depended on their friendship the most. He always assumed he’d be the one who’d have to tear himself away from them to let them live their own lives. Going to the city was his way of doing just that—becoming independent.

“Psh, that’s not a real thing. It’s a pipe dream. We all know I’m never getting out of here,” he said, attempting to stay nonchalant.

Something between an exhale and a tired, defeated laugh left her lips. The sound made his heart beat even faster. “Oh please. Last time we had band practice you had apartment listings in Zuzu open on your computer. I know you’re going. I’ve been trying to come to terms with it but it’s been really hard for me so I’m sorry if I’ve been…” She trailed off. The shrug that followed was one Sebastian felt against his side.

Shuffling onto his left side to look at her, he ignored the fear that she’d be able to feel his racing heart against her arm and leaned up, resting his cheek on his hand. 

“Would it be the same if I was the one doing something else and you and Sam were spending more time together alone?”

Abigail avoided his gaze as she answered, staring up to the dark sky. 

“No.”

As he waited to see if she would continue, Sebastian shifted his free hand up to untangle a purple curl where it had gotten caught on the railing when she had sprawled out next to him. When he moved his arm out from between them, her eyes were locked directly on his.

“Both of you mean the world to me and you guys have been with me through… everything. When I was younger it was like you two were the siblings I never had, you know? At some point that shifted—got weird.”

Sebastian had felt the same about Sam and Abigail. He knew exactly when it had changed for him, though. Puberty.

That shit had been weird. Just like she had said. He never paid attention to anyone like that and as soon as he hit twelve he suddenly found himself attracted to more of their peers than he’d like to admit, Abigail included.

He nodded, still leaning on his hand and staring down at her, letting the silence linger for a bit because he wasn’t sure what to say. His Winter Star wish was most definitely coming true, but he wasn’t sure how to handle it without royally screwing something up.

“But I never had to pay attention to that weirdness ‘cause the three of us were always busy. School, Goblin Destroyer practice, Solarian Chronicles, events around town our parents made us do, pool on Fridays, then the farm reopened and—”

“Abigail? ”

“Shit,” Abigail hissed, both of them recognizing her father’s voice where it drifted up from south of the playground.

Sebastian hoped the playground wasn’t in view for Pierre yet, and he hurried to stand, stepping over Abigail and jumping off of the platform, scurrying under it and hiding in the dark behind the climbing wall.

“Dad?”

A flashlight beam scanned the playground, the climbing wall keeping it from landing on Sebastian, and then moved upwards, he assumed to where Abigail still sat atop the platform near the slide peak.

“You’re going to catch a cold out here, young lady. I thought you were sleeping. What are you doing out here?”

“I come here sometimes to be alone and think. I didn’t think that would be an issue. Got in trouble at the graveyard—is this not a more acceptable place?”

Sebastian tensed, knowing how frustrated she was but also knowing just how Pierre would take her tone.

“Playgrounds are for children, Abigail. You’re an adult, you can do your thinking in your bedroom.”

“Yeah, Dad. I’m an adult which means I can make my own decisions about where I think.”

Their voices grew distant as they got further away from the playground equipment and Sebastian dared to peek around the climbing wall for a moment, watching them retreat towards the shop. 

When they vanished from his sight, he dug around in his hoodie pocket for his phone.

Chapter Text

The tag team talking-to she had received from her parents wasn’t too long seeing as how it was well past when they usually went to bed, but they had been up balancing some of the books for the shop. Her mother had gone to tell her goodnight due to the fact that she could see the light from Abigail’s television on and she thought her daughter was still awake, when she in fact, was not in her room at all.

Whoops.

Exhaling a long sigh, she shut her bedroom door and pulled her jacket off, taking her phone out of the right pocket before throwing the overcoat on the back of her desk chair. She thought her phone had vibrated while she had been getting chewed up and spit out by her parents for going to the playground of all damn things but—

Seb 🐸:  Let me in.

What? She sent back.

Abigail’s finger had barely left the send button when she heard a light, steady rapping on her window.

Pulling the curtain back, she saw Sebastian in the tree outside her window, one hand pressed against the glass and the other arm awkwardly around the trunk. His feet were planted on one of the strongest branches—the one she always used when she climbed out of her window—and after tossing a glance to the door to make sure the hallway light was now off, she slowly opened the window, grabbing the wrist of the hand that had been on the glass.

“Shhhh,” she hushed him preemptively, still slightly paranoid her parents were awake and milling about the house and shop.

He nodded, then whispered. “I meant to say please in the text. You don’t have to let me in if—”

Tugging at his wrist, attempting to help him inside before he even finished his sentence, Abigail pulled a little too hard and as he was climbing over the sill, his boot caught on it. In only a few heartbeats, Sebastian tripped into her room, lost his balance and stumbled into her. Luckily, her beanbag had been behind her and she fell backwards onto it—unluckily (or perhaps luckily, she’d never admit it), Sebastian landed almost on top of her, his hands catching on the beanbag at either side of her hips.

“Holy shit,” he hissed, quietly. “I am so sorry.”

Already pushing himself away from her to stand, Abigail’s hand seemed to move without thought, balling into a fist around the fabric of his hoodie pocket.

“It was my fault,” she said, quickly releasing her hold as if she had just registered what had happened.

He didn’t move from where he was, kneeling on the floor in front of the beanbag, knees planted in the plush rug she had in front of the television, thighs between her legs and palms resting on the beanbag surface on either side of her body. Their gazes were locked, unblinking, him peering down at her, and she didn’t know if they were playing chicken or if they were both scared that if one looked away whatever was happening there would be broken.

The window was still open, the cold breeze sweeping in far enough that strands of their hair were tousled, but she couldn’t have been warmer.

She finally shifted, pushing herself out of the Abigail-sized indentation she had made in the beanbag over time and towards him slightly.

“Why did you follow me here?”

Sebastian could have just gone home, saw her some other time, but no, he had waited until she and her father were out of sight and climbed up the tree outside of her window. He was risking a lot coming in here, especially because they both knew how her parents would react if they knew he was in her room at that exact moment (on his knees in front of her, even).

The fading Winter air was still biting, trying to flush out the warmth of her room and freeze it, but she could feel a bead of sweat travel down her spine.

“I couldn’t let you spill all that to me and then just leave,” he responded, his eyes staying squarely locked on hers as she shifted. 

“Did you get your wish, then?” Abigail’s whisper was quieter than she thought it would be, her nerves sucking some of the confidence out of the question.

“More than I wished for, really. I mean you… you really talked.”

A smirk seized her lips. “I could have stopped. I should have, I should have never said all of—”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Sebastian said, lowering himself slightly so they were face-to-face. “I wanted you to tell me what was wrong. And you did. I really appreciate that you did. I just wish I knew how to respond to it better.”

“You don’t need to respond. I just have to tough it up and accept that shit changes.”

There it was. She finally said it out loud. The thing she never wanted to admit, never wanted to articulate. Abigail could feel herself deflate when she said the words out loud, falling back into the beanbag.

Sebastian was opening his mouth to respond when he flinched and then rocked backwards off of his knees and out from between her legs. “Sorry, my knees are killing me.”

“Cause they’re so bony,” she murmured, the corner of her lips curling upwards.

“Hush, you.” Offering her a hand and a crooked grin, Sebastian helped her up and once she was on her feet, he let go, turning to Abigail’s room. He waved to the fluffy guinea pig in the cage next to the dresser. “Hey, David.”

She was seated on the edge of her bed when he spun back around, hands fiddling with her phone and eyes locked on the floor, and he approached and stood in front of her. 

“Shit changes, yeah. But it doesn’t always have to be bad,” he said.

Finally looking up to him, Abigail leaned back, placing her hands on the comforter behind her. “No one said it did, but everything on the horizon is bleak.”

“Would this change be bad?” He had pulled what was left of his current pack of cigarettes out of his pants pockets and once she realized what it was, he tossed it towards the small trash can near her desk. It bounced off the rim and fell onto the hardwood floor.

“Damn,” he said, scowling. “That was gonna look so cool, too.”

She smothered a laugh with her hand, but grew serious again at the implications of what he had done. “Are you just doing this to try to prove a point? Like you say you’re gonna quit to get me to be all Oh Sebastian, change really can be wonderful?”

“No, I’m saying I’d really quit.”

Staring up at him, she simply arched an eyebrow.

“It’ll be hard as hell and I’ll probably need help, but… I’ll do it.”

“Why?” She managed to look away from him once again, back to the floor.

Crouching in front of her to find her gaze, he was on his knees again in front of her the second time that night. “For you.”

“Don’t do it for me, Seb,” she whispered, reaching out and taking one of the strings on his hoodie to fiddle with while they continued their hushed conversation. “Do it for you. I can be a bonus if it’s really that important.”

His expression turned into one she had seen before, usually when he was deep in thought about something—whether he was working on a coding project or planning a pool shot—she recognized it. Maybe she was actually getting through to him on that front.

“I’ll do it for us.”

“What do you mean us?” She asked.

He was close enough again that she could smell the hint of cedarwood that lived in the threads of his hoodie and she inhaled as deeply as she could without looking too obvious. An answer to that question wasn’t something he seemed to have… or he had one and wasn’t sharing it.

“Use your words, Seb.”

“Hey, I didn’t win any poetry contests. I never said I was good with words.”

“I’ve heard you DM Solarian Chronicle games, you’re a god with words. Get out.”

Was he blushing? It was hard to tell in only the light of whatever public access channel had been left on after she turned her game off earlier, but he was doing that half-hearted chuckle and head turn he did when he was embarrassed. He had to be.

“Whatever you want it to mean,” he stated, finally turning back to her.

“No, you can’t get out of it that easily. I poured whatever is left of my heart out to you earlier and—”

“Can I kiss you?” 

His words were sudden and so quiet that she thought she misheard him at first.

“What?” Her own response was a mere exhale.

“Can I kiss you?” He repeated, both his voice and gaze filled with a reverence that sent a welcome spark through her.

She was leaning forward in response, head nodding slowly as she did, but before their lips could meet the light in the hall came on, flooding under the gap below her bedroom door. Cold hit her instantly as Sebastian left his spot in front of her and vanished somewhere, and her door opened to reveal her mother, her silhouette shifting as her nightgown and robe moved in the breeze from the window.

“Are you alright, darling? We thought we heard a noise—it woke your father up.”

“I’m fine, mom. Feeling a little panicked. Needed some fresh air,” she said through gritted teeth, motioning to the open window.

Her mother rambled on about how fresh air was good and maybe if she took walks and worked out with the ladies in the main room on Tuesday, her panic attacks and anxiety might go away. Abigail began to tune it out and felt something on the back of her leg as she did. 

Fingertips. 

He had slid under her bed.

“Thanks, mom. Don’t worry. Get some sleep. I’ll be fine,” Abigail managed to say without giggling at the fact that—

“That tickles!” She hissed once her mother had shut the door, turned the hallway light out, and shut the master bedroom door.

“Sorry,” Sebastian said, as he pulled himself out from under the bed.

“You aren’t.”

“You’re right, I’m really not.” He had stood and was brushing the dust bunnies from his clothes, then looked to her when he was done. There was an emptiness in his eyes, a sadness, and she figured it was because of the interruption. “I guess I should go, I don’t want you getting in trouble.”

Trouble with her parents wasn’t something she wanted either, and she most definitely didn’t want to get Sebastian on their bad side, but she was feeling especially feisty now that they had interfered with her life twice that night. Normally they managed to keep it down to once a day but this was too much.

She stood and placed her hand in the middle of his chest, gently herding him backwards until the backs of his boots hit the beanbag and he fell into it, turning the Abigail-sized dent into a Sebastian-sized one. Then she stood over him, his knees between her legs and motioned to his lap.

“May I?”

The almost bewildered look on his face coupled with his vigorous nod only served to goad her on and it was when she was crawling over him onto the beanbag that a voice in her head screamed to ask what she was doing. Yeah, she was feeling rebellious against her parents and they sure as hell wouldn’t approve of this but what did she want? 

Did she want this?

She did.

It was a change, but one that she found she welcomed.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked, repeating his own question from earlier to make sure it was still alright.

“You can do anything you want to me,” Sebastian responded, voice husky and gaze slowly studying her features. “I trust you. Always have.”

When their lips met, when the scent of cedarwood was the only thing she could smell, when his hands landed on her—one on her side and the other cupping her cheek—that was when she knew he was right. 

Shit changed, but it didn’t have to be bad.

His lips, his touch in general, it was all so gentle. He had told her he knew she could take care of herself—he had almost left her at the mines that night she had been injured, but here he was, treating her like she might break if he made one wrong move. Treating her like she was some delicate vase that could shatter with barely a breeze.

Pulling back, she opened her eyes and it was her turn to search his expression as she attempted to piece together what he was thinking.

“Are you afraid you’re going to hurt me?” She motioned to his hands with her gaze.

“I’ve always been afraid of that,” he said, his response giving her more questions and less answers.

“I trust you, too,” she said, slouching in his lap and slipping her hands into his hoodie pocket. “Don’t be afraid.”

“Of hurting you?”

“Of anything,” Abigail whispered, just as much for herself as him.

Then she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his again. 

His hands shifted as they kissed, one sliding down her side, around to the small of her back, fingers grazing the waistband of her pants, and the other around to the back of her head, where he buried his fingers in her hair. Pulling her closer to him then, he deepened the kiss, and Abigail almost melted against him.

Mere days ago she had been in the mines again, slicing up vines and telling herself he’d be gone to the city soon and she wouldn’t have to see him anymore, he wouldn’t be around—a constant reminder that everything in her life would leave one day, whether it was her fault or not. She had told herself then, sweaty and sword in hand, that she would talk to him and tell him what had been going on in her mind—she owed him that after he helped her that night.

Nothing in her plans had her on his lap, whimpering with her hands under his hoodie any time his fingertips skated across her skin or he slipped his tongue past her lips.

But this was a change.

And she had to get used to those.

“I guess I should let you go,” she said, climbing off of him and standing, her body suddenly cold again. “Our luck,” she paused, motioning to the door. “Someone’ll come back in.”

He stood, straightening his hoodie and brushing his hair out of his face. “Mmmhmm. Headed home to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling.”

“I’m sure you’ll fall asleep just fine.”

“Are you kidding me, Abs? After,” just like she motioned to the door, he motioned to her. “All that? Nah.”

The smile she felt on her face was instant and wide. It had been a long time since she felt one that genuine. “Hush.”

Staring down at her, Sebastian placed his hands on her arms and leaned in, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you for talking to me.”

Abigail answered with an affirmative noise, head buried in his hoodie and arms around his waist in a hug. A warmth blossomed in her system when he hugged her back, kissing her scarred shoulder as he did. “Thank you for understanding…” She pulled back. “And for putting up with me.”

They said their goodbyes and promised to see each other the next morning, and as Sebastian awkwardly climbed down the tree outside her window, he tossed a glance back up to her and said. “Y’know, I kind of love putting up with you.”

She watched him vanish up the moon-bathed mountain path, waiting until the last possible moment she could see him before she retreated into her room and shut the window. Falling into the Sebastian-sized indentation on the beanbag, she inhaled the scent of cedarwood, her phone vibrating as she did.

Seb 🐸:  Always have.