Work Text:
Working on the farm may have been enjoyable and rewarding, but it was definitely something that wore you out. The last batch of summer crops had just been harvested and it was important to ensure all of them had been taken care of before Fall arrived. Picking the peaches was a constant up and down the ladder to drop them into the basket (without bruising them if course), cutting every melon from their vines, and gathering the blueberries in time to make some delicious wine were no easy tasks. Not to mention the prepping the soil for the upcoming plants to be ready from when you bulk bought a bunch from Pierre. There was always so much work to be done in order to keep the farm in its best shape.
You deserved a relaxing afternoon by the beach to rest. Or at least it was the thought that counted as your version of relaxing was more aligned with still walking along the shoreline looking for any bits and bobs that caught your eye. You weren’t one to really stay still and relax as they say, but this was your version of self care. It was always fun to look for more shells or trinkets that popped up along the beach anyways.
A little later you found yourself sitting and counting over your haul of the day. Clam shells, cockles, and fragments of other miscellaneous ones jingled like precious treasure in your hand. Well, in fact they were precious. Sure some would be sold for a little extra funds, but you loved collecting them and finding all sorts or shapes and colors to place along your shelves. You fanned them all out against the fabric of your towel and looked over each one as time slipped by.
Soon, you heard the sound of someone approaching, and the soft crunch of the pebbling sand grew louder.
“Y/n?”
You lifted your hand to block the sun to see a familiar figure. Elliott was dressed in his usual button up shirt but didn’t sport his usual vest or coat. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and you could easily make out where his arms had freckled more from being out in the sun. It was subtle, but there, like little clusters of constellations snaking their way around his arms. The sun hit against his auburn waves and hue reminded you of the soft burn of a crackling fire as it kicked up in the wind. He looked beautiful, ethereal even. It was ridiculous how good he looked.
If anyone asked you to your face if you’d had feelings for anyone in Pelican Town, you’d simply tell them you didn't or you were too busy or that you were already friends with everyone. But deep down you knew you’d had started to grow feelings for the writer soon after you’d both started talking to one another in town. That being said, any advances you made went over his head faster than anything, and you’d accepted that things would have to stay one sided. Elliott as a friend was better than no Elliott at all. At least right now you could play the blush off as the start of a sunburn from your ventures.
You smiled up at him. “Oh, hi Elliott. How has your day been?”
He’d returned the smile back, small but noticeable crinkles forming up by his eyes. “Quite lovely, there’s nothing like the heat of summer and the crisp edge of fall finally meeting again. Very poetic actually, like two who are almost lovers but simply pass by one another softly in the night. I mostly just stopped by the river and then Leah’s, and then picked up a few things on the way back.”
He lifted his book up slightly to show you. “May I join you? Or would you prefer to rest by yourself?”
You patted the fabric of the towel next to you as an open invitation. He made his way next to you, readjusted himself to get more comfortable, and set his book down between the two of you. The bright blue cover caught your eyes once more, and now you could get a closer look at it.
“Is that the one I recommended to you? Sword of the Sapphire Woods?” you asked.
“Of course.” He’d said as if it was the most obvious thing. “You said it was good and that you loved the relationship between the two of them. You know I love a good build up to a flourishing relationship. But more importantly, you mentioned it was a comfort read and I wanted to see why. Actually, I wanted to talk about it with you.”
The heat rose back into your cheeks. Of course he did. Of course he’d read it for you. But not like that. Just as friends of course. Good friends who sometimes walked one another home from the library or talked a little too long when seeing one another at town or wrote each other silly notes or joined a table together at the Saloon.
Nonetheless, you still blushed at the gesture.
“That’s…that’s sweet of you Elliott. You’ll have to tell me what you think.”
A calm lull of silence fell between the two of you. It gave you a chance to focus on the continued softness of the waves lapping at the shoreline before you. But then, Elliott broke it.
“Did you have a good day?” He’d asked simply. “I see you found lots of shells again. I hope that you will tell me about them.”
“I think so.” You hesitated. “ It was productive. Lots of work on the farm, caught some fish, dropped off some lost books. But…you know when things are going fine and then all of a sudden your mind wanders elsewhere? Like not in a daydreaming sense but almost like a distracted sense?”
Elliott readjusted himself on the towel extending a leg outward and twisting his body back towards you to give his fullest attention. His hands rested up on his knee.
“Could you explain it a little more to me?” He backtracked as he watched you
I’m not judging or chastising, just want to understand more”
“I just want to be good enough you know? Make sure I'm doing right by grandpa and running the farm as a I should. There’s always just so many tasks," you moved your hands outward in emphasis as you elaborated.
I guess just want to be enough for everyone. I know that’s not what this is about, and I know I’m a good farmer. In a way the farm is an extension of me. If it fails, then it means I failed at taking care of it. A bad harvest means I made a mistake. Maybe I let too many crows come by or I forgot to water a few crops so they don’t grow on time. If that happens then to me it feels like I’m not enough. If I am not enough for people then I feel I need to try harder to win that back.”
Your thoughts spilled into words like a runaway train, but you couldn’t stop rattling off every deep thought you swore you stashed away. It was as if you were placing all cards in your hand out for show, and yet, Elliott still suspected you were hiding something. Or at the very least beating around the bush in your explanations.
“Who’s people?”
You stopped and turned to him, “What do you mean?”
“The people you mentioned. If you don’t mind me asking of course. Who are the 'people'?”
You suddenly became very aware of how tightly you’d been clutching your seashell out of nervousness. "Well, I mean technically everyone in town collectively. But also my friends, Leah, and you too…”
“Me?” he asked.
You nodded. You opted to avoid his gaze by now turning your attention to the sun slipping farther into the sea. “Honestly, I think that I worry about your opinion of me the most.”
“How could that be?”
“I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to be disappointed in me. I…well. I…I like having you around and I like…”
You debated confessing your feelings then and there, but that felt like too much. Especially if he didn’t end up feeling the same way.
However, Elliott spoke.
“I think you are doing great. I like a lot of things you do,” he said.
“Really?”
He’d blushed deeper still looking over at you, “Yes. How could I not?”
“I like that you are passionate and determined. You put in so much effort into taking care of your farm, and I don’t just mean like ‘wow you sold so many vegetables this season’ sort of way. You always take so much care into everything that you do. You’re passionate Y/n, and it stands out more than anything.”
A small grimace formed as you listened. “I try my best, but sometimes I don’t feel like it’s ever enough.”
“I get that. Sometimes I feel like that with my own writing. I go on and on for hours thinking what I wrote on the page is absolute nonsense that couldn’t hold a candle to the finest works that are out there already.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear as the wind picked up. “It feels heavy like an anchor sinking slowly below the waves tethering me. But then, I remember that my muse isn’t like theirs and theirs unlike mine. What I mean to say is that you, your farm, how you carry yourself, it’s all original and unique.”
“It just feels different. I mean you’re good at writing.”
“And you’re good at taking care of the farm.” he said. “Of crafting items from materials like magic. Of collecting things that reveal the very pieces of excitement in your soul.”
He nudged your side.
“Can I go on?” he asked, green eyes looking down over at you.
He’d earned a soft laugh from you. Not a full one, but he’d take what he could get. “I get it. Thanks Elliott.”
And yet he kept going , “You know I like that you care about others so deeply. I like that you remember details that others would overlook. You’re so kind and genuine in everything that you do. Your heart is a radiant one. Always helping around town, saying hello. I like how excited you get about things like reading or, or even your seashells, “ he paused to gesture to the day’s hoard. “You talk faster when you love something a lot, did you know that? Your words flow over and over one another and it's a wonderful melody, my dear. I’d happily listen to it.”
You could have melted down into the rocks and sand and out to sea and you wouldn’t have even noticed at the sound of his words. You wished for this to mean he felt the same, though you couldn't get your hopes up. It wasn’t worth it to lose him as a friend if this meant nothing deeper at all.
“Y/n, the truth of it all is that I haven’t. Well I haven’t been honest with you.”
The concern rippled across your face too abruptly. There it was. It was worse than you imagined and yet your fears were blooming to life right in front of your eyes like a rogue ivy plant overtaking a trellis. Your stomach sank like a rock in a stream.
“Oh.”
“Ah Not like that! Not dishonest like, let me begin again.” He breathed deeply, resetting himself. “I think you are wonderful and have done so many amazing things. But I find myself enamored with your very being. When getting to know you, I found myself wanting to know you more. I thought you were just a new farmer here to do her business and take care of things like that. But I was wrong.”
“You are strong, gentle but tenacious like a storm rolling over the hillside to tenderly water the spring grass. You care deeply and its a beautiful thing. Inside and on the outside. You’re gorgeous. I found myself getting lost in your eyes, insides turning flimsy as jam as you looked at me. Gorgeous hair with how it surrounds you in the breeze or when the curls puff up after you have been rushing around. It’s gorgeous, everything Y/n.” He looked over you eyes meeting eyes then his own drifting over to all the parts he’d described.
“I would be a fool if I didn’t ask you to be mine. But then I think maybe I would be a fool still if I did ask you. I’ve gone back and forth so much that I feared in doing so I had missed the chance to earn your affections. You deserve the world and beyond and I want to try to give you even a fraction of it. I am but a sailor trying to find my way home to you. My heart only longs to be closer to you and to give you all that you wish for in everything”
“You want to be with me romantically?”
“Yes” he beamed. “Is it so hard to believe?”
The ridges of the clam shell rolled under your fingertips as you fidgeted with it. Your voice dropped into a softer tone, “A little bit.”
He frowned at you in slight disbelief and confusion. “Why?”
“I thought I’d lose you. I thought I’d be rejected if I ever did tell you how I felt.” This wasn’t at all how you'd ever thought having this conversation with him, if at all. So you continued. Breathing in softly like waiting for a final blow, you said, “You know I tried to ask you to the flower dance?”
“You did?”
You smiled softly, not meeting his eyes fully, “I did, Elliott.”
His smile dropped quickly.
“I tried to ask you. I’d gone up to you first seeing if you came alone. Then I basically tried to shoot my shot with you and you responded with ‘excuse me not today’ before going back to grab a drink. I felt really awkward after and I didn’t have anyone so I kind of just watched everyone partner up from the sidelines.
His cheeks burned crimson. “Gods…”
“It’s okay!” You tried to stave off your own embarrassment for yourself, and honestly, for Elliott’s sake as well. Your hand waved faster as if fanning it away the feelings would make them fizzle away. You hadn’t seen him glow that red since you watched him trip up the steps of the saloon. “We barley knew each other then. “We were like, barely friends? Acquaintances at most? I only ran into you a few times between gathering supplies or going to Pierre’s and stuff.”
He was mortified. The tips of his ears burned down to his cheeks. Usually so full of words they;d evaded him in that moment.
You laid a hand on his shoulder trying to ease tension. His face remained in his hands, soft groans coming from behind his palms.
“Elliott, it’s okay re-” but you were cut off by his antics.
“You tried to ask me to dance!” He emerged from behind his hands, flailing a little dramatically as his arms shrugged out in front of him, “And I said NO!? Y/n!”. His stress accumulated into a set of dramatic wails.
“We could have danced! I could have swept you off your feet and danced with you.”
“I know but really, Elliott it’s okay. It’s in the past.”
He continued naming off all the hypotheticals that the two of you could have done that day had he simply not answered in the way he did. Complaints of ‘we could have had so much more’ or ‘my heart has been yearning when I could have had you in my arms this whole time’ spilled from his lips. You attempted to reassure over and over, though it wasn’t exactly clicking.
“And now?” He asked pleadingly. He’d suddenly whirled around with quick urgency, a spark in his eyes. Hoping, pleading that fate would allow him to do this all over if he could.
“Now?” you countered.
“Would you ask again now?” he reiterated.
“It’s basically fall, Elliott.”
He breathed in deeply, but softly. His hands found their way to yours and gently grasped them. “I know but let's pretend it's spring when the flowers are bright and the weather is crisp and I’m at least in that moment, not being a fool again. Please, Y/n, would you ask me again if afforded another chance to. If affording me another chance to make these things right?”
Slowly but surely, you answered. “I would.”
Without any more hesitation, His hands cupped the bottom of your chin and brought his lips to yours. He hungrily devoured you, but still maintained his usual gentleness and care. It was as if he was trying to pour in every ounce of care, desire, and building affection that he felt for you. That he’d failed to give to you all this time.
It was no shock that Elliott was truly an artist as his movements each tenderly and methodically worked to cherish you. A nudge of the nose here, a gentle peck between capturing your lips again there, the touch of his thumb gently sweeping against your jawline as an ask to pull you even closer here. You felt yourself being pulled into his lap like you were a ship floating on the crest of a wave and just going with the flow of it all. One hand was still cradling your face, the other squeezing against the softness of your hip.
You kissed him back with just as much passion. You both mirrored one another, unspoken affection bubbling to the surface like a hot spring. He smelled the way summer rain did. Earthy and sweet but still salty enough to match the ocean he’d spent so much time by.
“Elliott,” you’d whispered softly as a kiss broke, but this only led to another, and another, and another. Endless over and over again. You twisted his auburn locks between your fingers, leaving a breathy sigh slipping from his lips before you felt his tongue gently slip into your mouth deepening everything more.
The two of you kissed for moments longer before finally looking back at one another
“I would say yes back.” he’d said after planting another soft kiss on your cheek. “I’d stop being an absolute and oblivious fool. We would dance and you’d look so beautiful in your dress. Gods Y/n you are so beautiful. The setting sun makes your beauty glow even more radiantly.”
You were now sat up on his lap, resting softly as his hands supported you at the waist. He looked up at you, eyes boring into yours lovingly and cheeks going flushed. He continued to beam at you with crinkles bloomed by the corners of his eyes. He didn’t let go of you and only held you tighter.
He asked, “Y/n, my darling, will you grant me the chance to be yours? To be able to show you how much I care for you every day that I am able?”
“Of course, Elliott. I just can’t believe we’re here. I never thought you’d feel the same. Or could ever see me as someone to see in that way.”
“And I am sorry I didn’t act on this sooner. I could have saved us a lot of confusion“ his thumb rubbed against your cheek again with the same softness.
Gently, you swiped a rogue lock from his eyes that had been left there by the breeze again.
He smiled at you still so far over the moon you’d blink and he’d be out of sight forever.
“I’d give you letters. My darling I’d write you letters where my kisses could not reach you if I were away, he started. “And I’d wake up every morning ecstatic that you were there in all your beauty and make sure you felt how deeply that love resonated. You deserve to be cherished and I want to have the chance to do so. I want to take care of you. I know you can yourself, but Y/n I want to take care of you.”
You took in his words, truly feeling the genuine weight of each one.
He continued on, “I would like to see you again. And again. I want to prove to you that I can be someone worthy of your heart.” He softly kissed you once more, lips more gentle this time but still familiarizing themselves with the taste of you.
“And I would like to see you again, Elliott.”
Your heart could burst from how warm and comforted you felt in the moment. This was new, yet it felt like you had been with one another for years. Like this was just another everyday romantic conversation you’d had many of before.
“Would you please join me for dinner? I’ll cook you something nice, something extravagantly cozy as you deserve! How do you feel about lobster bisque?” he offered awaiting your response.
“I’ve actually never had it.” Despite all that you’d brought to sell or give away, you’d never done much with the seafood you’d collected.
“Wonderful! I will treat you to your first. We can share a bottle of wine, and i can grab that and the bread in town.”
“Or I can get the bread?”
Elliott put his hand on his chest, “You will not! You will not have to worry about anything. I will be winning and dining you darling.”
You laughed, “Well how about the wine? I just made a fresh batch from one of the berry batches.”
“Okay, deal. But please let me treat you. It is the least I can do for you.”
The two of you continued sitting there and talking, just enjoying one another’s comfort. You watched the waves go in and out against a now star-filled sky while stealing kisses. The sun has slipped away a while ago, but neither of you cared all that much. You had one another in the moment, and it was more than either of you could have asked for. If anything you were more excited to see where everything would go as you knew there was so much more waiting in the distant future.
(Idk I kind of want to write part two of the date. Like he makes her laugh the whole time and feel so comfortable. and the piano playing that would happen. she 100% rolls up with a pomegranate tart for dessert and they end up making out at the end of the night in his bed? hmm)