Work Text:
I expect to see you tonight at the bonfire. It’ll be fun. Plus, I know there are some people excited to meet you.
You play Leah’s words over and over again in your head. You’re still new – painfully so – but at the very least, have met most of the residents of Pelican Town at this point. She assures you that everyone attending will welcome you with open arms, yet as you walk to the beach in your sun dress and sandals, you can’t help but feel nervous.
They’ve all practically grown up together. Haven’t they?
Quickly dismissing that as untrue, you try and remember what Leah told you. She only made Pelican Town her home a few years prior. Doctor Harvey is also a transplant, though you don’t know how long he’s been here. Also, there’s that writer.
What was his name again? Elijah? Ellington? Elliott? Yes, that was it. Elliott.
He lived on the beach. The few times you had been down to fish with Willy, he’d been indoors, your schedules never quite matching up. Your stomach does a little flip. You liked books, but worried you weren’t well-read enough to hold his attentions.
What if he doesn’t like my taste in literature? Wait? What does it matter? I don’t even know the guy.
As feet hit sand, you assume it’s just the overstimulation of meeting so many new people in such a short amount of time. Your social battery hasn’t had the time to fully recharge, and the thought of adding yet another new face to the foray seems daunting.
Before you get cold feet, Leah spots you, standing up from her seat on a log by the fire to wave you over.
No backing out now.
Mustering up your courage, you slap on a smile and kick your way across the sand. The vibe is rather chill. Sam plays his guitar, strumming bits of songs you almost recognize, melody floating through the air like the soundtrack to a warm spring night.
“I’m so glad you could make it! It’s the perfect weather for a bonfire,” she says, pulling you into a hug.
Leah is right, of course. The breeze coming in off the ocean is warm. The sunset is painting the sky in stripes of pink and orange, while the stars above slowly begin to show their faces.
“Come, sit. I’ll make sure you’ve met everyone by the end of the night.”
Leah is true to her word. You already recognize most people, but there are a few stragglers. You’re finally introduced to the elusive Sebastian, the introverted computer programmer up the mountain who’s shocked you chose Pelican Town of all places to settle. Even Shane, who brushed you off so readily that first meeting finally has a few nice words for you now that he’s not on his way to work.
Leah seems restless as the sun sets. Like she’s waiting for something… or someone.
The bonfire crackles pleasantly as marshmallows and sticks are passed around. You’re just starting to loosen up enough to enjoy yourself when you notice the soft click of a door closing behind you. Leah must hear it too because she’s already snatching your roasted marshmallow and passing it off to someone else.
“Finally,” she grumbles good-naturedly. “The elusive writer emerges. Come on,” she says, pulling you up before you can protest.
“Elliott, I’ve got someone you need to meet!” She says, turning back to you with a smile. “He’s just like us too. Came here last year, left his old life behind. He really has been excited to meet you, but well, you know… writer’s schedules,” she says with a wave of her hand, practically shoving you into his line of sight.
And holy yoba, this man is beautiful.
He looks like the kind of person you’d be afraid to approach on the streets of Zuzu City. Automatically assuming he’d have more important things to do with his time than say hello to you. It’s a bad take, you’re well aware, but sometimes old habits and insecurities die hard.
Instead, you’re greeted with one of the kindest smiles you’ve ever seen as he takes your hand and gives a small bow.
An honest-to-goodness bow.
Where did this guy even come from?
“Ah, the new farmer we've all been expecting... and whose arrival has sparked many a conversation! I'm Elliott... I live in the little cabin by the beach. It's a pleasure to meet you.” He stops, shaking his head. “Though I suspect you surmised that last part when I walked out the door in front of you. Apologies, I do tend to ramble when meeting a friendly face.”
Captivated, you have to think long and hard just to remember your name, only to realize that you’re still clinging to his hand, staring into his eyes like some hypnotized lovestruck fool.
“N-no! No need to apologize,” you stammer. “It’s a lovely cottage. Very beachy.”
Beachy?
You wish the ground would open beneath your feet and just suck you right in. Where was a nice patch of quicksand when you needed it?
Leah is staring between the two of you, brow raised, with an infuriating smirk on her face. “I’d give that introduction an A for effort,” she snorts, turning to head back to the fire. “My duty is done. You’ve now officially met everyone.”
Suddenly bashful, you start walking back to the campfire, Elliott falling into pace at your side, hands clasped behind his back.
“I do hope that old farm is treating you kindly,” he says, by way of small talk. “I admire the fact that you struck out on your own. Your courage does not go unnoticed.”
You’re about to say something more. Would like to at least thank him for being one of the nicest people you’ve met so far, but he’s pulled away by loud cheers from around the campfire; chided affectionately for not joining them earlier as a cup of something strong and cold is placed into his hands.
Figures, he would be popular, you think, noting the way he seems to put people at ease.
The mood is cheerful as you gravitate from conversation to conversation. Even though you’re never quite able to get him alone again, you do wander in and out of each other’s orbits all night. Your eyes are continuously drawn to each other like gravity over and over again, sheepish grins and happy butterflies kicking up dust in your chest every time it happens.
There are moments where you worry that you’re reading too much into it. He’s so friendly with everyone. But also, you don’t notice him searching for anyone else all evening either.
The longer it goes on, the less you can convince yourself that he was just initially being polite. That maybe this pull you feel towards him is actually reciprocated. Of course, just when you’re getting comfortable with that idea, the night takes an unexpectedly interesting turn.
“All right. Enough of this boring shit,” Shane announces, “We should start a game of truth or dare. Keep the evening exciting.”
You blink. Thinking he’s joking at first. You haven’t played truth or dare since you were in high school. What was next? Spin the bottle?
Still, the mood is right. All the town singles are giggling and enjoying themselves. They probably all know each other well enough by now that they’ll ask extremely poignant questions of each other, while you’ll get the basic, easy ones.
It could be fun.
If it gets too weird, you can always call it a night and blame the ever-present early morning farm chores.
Leah takes a seat on the log next to you, while Elliott sits a few logs over, eyes briefly locking with yours over the flames. He gives you a self-depreciating little smile before Shane’s booming voice draws all eyes back to him.
“Guess I’ll start,” he shrugs, taking a long drag from his beer before letting his eyes travel around the group, choosing his first victim participant.
“Sam. Truth or dare?”
The happy-go-lucky golden retriever of a man perks his head up and cackles. “Hit me with your best truth!” He laughs.
Shane wears a shit eating grin, not even missing a beat. “Have you stolen from the JojaMart since you started working there?”
Half the group laugh knowingly as Sam shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, trying to cobble together an answer.
“I mean I haven’t not not stolen anything,” he says. “Shit. All right. It was a company pen, but I SWEAR, I didn’t know it was in my pocket when I left work that day.”
Sam looks like a suspect freshly cracked under pressure. It’s endearing for a question as mild as this. “And don’t any of you tell Morris. I really like that pen and don’t want to give it back,” he chuckles and stands, eyes looking around the group.
“Let’s move along. It’s my turn now…”
You know he’s going to say your name before it even comes out of his mouth. You choose truth, banking on your earlier assessment that none of them know you well enough to ask to anything too juicy.
You’re wrong, of course.
“Now that you’ve met everyone, is there anybody in town you’re interested in romancing?” Sam grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you as several people – Leah included – make fake-scandalized WOOOOOOOOH sounds around the fire.
You know your face is turning beet red by how quickly Elliott’s name races through your brain. Body in full betrayal mode, your eyes are drawn to him yet again, like a compass seeking north, only to be surprised at how intently he’s staring back.
“T-there may be someone,” you admit, gaze remaining locked on his for a split second too long… or at least until Leah shoves your arm playfully, nearly pushing you from the log.
“Spill! Who is it?” She grins knowingly.
“N…not what was asked,” you stammer, knowing damn well that will be the very next truth someone demands of you. But you’re playing this game by the book. “I was only asked if there was anyone, not who they were.”
A round of groans goes off as the game continues.
You dare Penny to recite the cringiest poetry she can remember after she let it spill to you earlier that she had a diary full of angsty poetry from her teenage years.
Harvey is dared to chug a beer, something he does, but is profusely embarrassed by, begging everyone to not need a doctor this evening as he will officially be under the influence.
On and on the game goes until it’s Leah’s turn. You flinch, fully expecting her to focus her attentions on you, but instead, she chooses Elliott.
“Truth or dare, Mr. Poet Laureate.”
He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear before looking up at her, a twinkle of mischief in his eye.
“Dare.”
Leah looks impressed, before her face transforms into a wicked grin.
“I dare you to make someone blush using just your words,” she says smugly, crossing her arms in front of her.
Elliott smirks as everyone around him begins laughing and whispering to each other.
“I believe I am up to the challenge,” Elliott says, pretending to weigh all his options. But you know. Can feel it in the way his body is already turning towards you, the way his gaze lands on yours once more, stopping, as if this has been the inevitable pinnacle the entire evening was building to since you shook hands earlier.
He closes the distance in five easy steps, sitting next to you on the log and leans in. His breath is warm against your ear, lips so close you swear you can feel them brushing against your skin as he whispers.
“When I first saw you, my mind went quiet, for I could not hear the words over the sound of my riotous heart.”
When he pulls back to look at you, you’re blushing.
Of course you are. How could you not be?
Everyone around the bonfire instantly breaks out into peals of laughter, shouting lighthearted comments of “too easy” and “get a load at how red she is,” between each other.
You know that their words aren’t mean to sting, yet they still do.
You’re caught somewhere between this moment and the past. Between wondering if his words are real, or said just to win the dare.
When you dare to look at him again, Elliott’s expression is searching. Earnest.
You want to believe – stars, how you want to – but you’ve been tricked like this before. Have been ridiculed at a party by a room full of people you thought were your friends, all because you dared to take a confession of affection seriously. It had all just been an elaborate joke meant to humiliate.
And even though these are different people – good people – your brain is finding it hard to shake those painful memories.
The wave of warring emotion coursing through you right now is almost unbearable. It’s taking all you have just to wrangle it back under control. That is, until Leah unwittingly laughs loudly at your side. “Elliott, I said blush, not seduce, you absolute cad! What did you even say to get that kind of reaction? She’s a red as a tomato!”
Your vision blurs.
Shit. Shit shit shit. You need to get out of here before you look even more like the fool you feel. Crying in front of half the town was not on your evening’s itinerary.
Leah is startled by how fast you stand, walking away from the bonfire as hurried as your legs will carry you while still trying to appear natural. You’re trying not to be too obvious about brushing away the tears until you think the shadows have swallowed you up completely.
The confused shouts urging you back are mere background noise to the thrumming of your pulse through your ears.
Stars, it’s going to be at least a week before you’ll feel brave enough to venture off your farm at this rate.
You’re almost to the bridge before you hear it. The sound of Elliott’s worried voice rapidly approaching behind you.
“Wait. Please wait. A moment. Only a moment,” he calls.
You wouldn’t have stopped, would have just kept going, except for the fact that he sounds completely wrecked.
You slow down, coming to a halt at the apex of the bridge. You still can’t bring yourself to look at him. Can’t bear for him to see how foolish you feel. opting to lean on the wall of the bridge instead, arms crossed protectively in front of you, gaze focused a little too intently at the river below.
The soft shhhk shhhk of steps cutting through sand gives way to shoes meeting cobble as he comes to a stop next to you.
“I apologize most ardently,” he begins, still catching his breath, “if anything I said has upset you. That was not my intention. I just thought… no, foolishly assumed that you had felt…” He trails off in dismay.
You steal a glance at him, not yet trusting yourself to speak. He looks truly gutted. Hair askew, blowing haphazardly in the rapidly cooling breeze. His chest rising and falling with the effort of sprinting after you across sand.
“I am sorry for making you uncomfortable. Sometimes the romantic in me. Well, it sees things that evidently are not there,” he frowns sadly.
You try to clear your head; wrap your mind around the words he’s saying, wiping at a stray tear, while trying not to make it look too obvious. Though, you both know that ship has long sailed.
“I just thought… well, I assumed you were only saying it for the dare,” you admit, before trusting your instincts to be honest, “I was once… purposely ridiculed in a situation almost identical to that and… well, I panicked.”
The confession hangs heavy in the air between you.
Elliott makes a sad little ‘oh’ sound before reaching out a hand nervously, wanting to close the distance, but thinking better of it as it drops back to his side.
You know why he does it, but you’re disappointed nonetheless.
“I give you my word that I would never participate in anything so cruel,” he whispers. “Nor, can I abide the heartlessness of others. You did not deserve that.”
“Thank you, Elliott,” you manage, trying to swallow around the lump in your throat. “There was no way you could have known.”
“Even still… may I start over… please?”
The way he’s looking at you right now cracks something open in your chest. Something raw and vulnerable and hopeful.
“S-sure,” you stammer, turning to face him.
This time, when he reaches for your hand, you let him take it. Watch with wonder as he brings the back of it to his lips and presses the ghost of a kiss along your knuckles.
“Hello. I’m Elliott. I live in the cabin on the beach and have been drawn to you all evening,” he smiles. “I simply had to come over and finally say hello.”
His words draw a small laugh from your lips. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Elliott. I too, feel like I’ve been drawn to you all night.”
You watch as he visibly relaxes at your re-introduction, that easy kindness in his eyes returning once more.
“You know… seeing your blush was mere icing on the cake,” he smiles, squeezing your hand gently. “I simply wished to share my feelings… and felt inspired to recite one of the incomplete stanzas I’ve been working on for the past week.”
“It really was lovely,” you admit. “Before I got so in my head about everyone laughing at me,” you sigh, looking back at the beach. “I think I may be done for the evening.”
“Then please, permit me the pleasure of your company a while longer by allowing me to escort you on your journey home,” he says with a bow.
“But that’s clear across town and your cabin is right there!” you exclaim. “Are you sure?”
“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” he replies, intertwining his fingers with yours, drawing you closer to him until you can feel the warmth of his body.
“O-ok,” you say, completely lost in the way he manages to make you feel like the centre of his world. “Under one condition.”
“Anything, my muse,” he says, the nickname rolling off his tongue with ease. Like he was just waiting to meet you so it could be used. “Name it and it shall be yours.”
“I’d love to hear more of that poem you’re working on as we walk.”
You realize that when Elliott’s joy is genuinely expressed and truly unguarded, he has a crooked smile and a dimple on his left cheek.
“As you wish,” he murmurs, the two of you beginning the slow, easy meander through the town.
And sure, it may take twice as long as it normally does to get to your door. Somehow, neither of you mind one bit.
Years from now when you’re married and settled, you’ll look back on this night and know that his smile – his poetry – were the exact moment you started falling in love.
But for now, you’re just two strangers taking those first tentative steps to becoming more, one line of poetry at a time.