- I - The foghorn (ElliottxOC fanfic)
The first thing Daya always senses is the cold. It pulls on her ankles as soon as she swings her feet out of bed and it moves around her softly moaning. A cool draft directly from the sea it is. It makes the floorboards of the hut creak and her body shiver. “Hmmmp.” A moan comes from the man besides her and a sleepy hand brushes her body. She turns around to look at him and smiles. His fiery hair forms a halo on his pillow. Underneath the long streaks she sees the contours of his face. If her hands weren’t so cold she would touch him, run her fingers along his jawline and kiss him. But she settles for a soft peck on his head. “I’m heading out to check the crabpots Ell.” She wispers.
Outside the air is crisp. The rumbling sound of the waves faces her and the autumn forest has her back. The smell of salt and dead leaves fills the air and she smiles as she takes it in. Bucket with bait in one hand and a basket for the fish in the other she walks over the beach wading into the shallow waters.
The first crabpot looks empty at first but at closer inspection seems to have a washed up cd stuck to its back. Daya puts the disc in her tunic and starts humming as she opens the next basket. Yes snails! Methodically she starts to pluck the creatures out of the pot. They tuck their heads into their shells shielding themselves from the cold wind and Daya’s prying fingers. Unaware of their fate they are as she is already picturing them being cooked and then ovenbaked with oil and garlic. Elliot will enjoy a pomegranate after dinner and they’ll both have some tea. Her mind wanders off to the time she spends with him, she wouldn’t miss it for the world. Maybe its time to make something special for him, like his favorite soup... “Good mornin’ Miss! How are we t’day?” Its Willy, walking along the pier, he waves at her. His fishing shop is nothing but a vague form in the morning mist. “Morning Willy, how are you today?” She smiles, genuinely happy to see the kind fisher. He is holding his fishing gear in one hand and a bag in the other. The wooden fishing pole seems to be attached to his body as she never sees him without it. “Mighty fine Daya. Its a perfect day for an early trip to the river in the forest. Misty, the world still in slumber. Perfect time for catching a trout. You want me to drop one by later today?” Daya nods. She plucks a runnaway snail from the side of her basket and puts him back inside. “You are too kind Willy, thank you.” He taps his baret and smiles after which he walks onto the path leading to town.
After the haul of the crabpots is safely stored its time for a warm shower. As she renters the hut Elliot is sitting at his desk. Sleep still shrouds his face but he is already making notes for his novel. “Daya, love come here.” “ I smell of sand and seaweed Ell.” “Just the way I like it.” He reaches out and pulls his wife close. She giggles when he theatrically snifs her neck. “Awefull, this sea smell.” He groans and huggs her tighter. “Let me go!” She laughs and wriggles as he tickles and kisses her. In their struggle the seashell necklace that is the symbol of their marriage bumps into his eye. “Agh, so it will be. The gods of the sea want me to let go!” He cries out. They both laugh. Elliott then softly kisses her smiling lips, Daya leans into it softly. His warm body is tempting her to let the chores of the day wait for another hour in bed, but there is too much to do still. “We’ll have to work.” She wispers and slides of his lap. “True, true. Would you like to hear the synopsis for my next novel while you shower?” Daya nodds and lets her woolen vest fall onto the floor, followed by the rest of her clothing items. Elliott stares at her for a moment. The warmth in his green eyes is unmistakable. His instincts is to walk up to her and touch her, but he then realizes what he was about to do and starts reading. His ears and cheeks slightly more red than before. “Okay, so its a story about a man that is at sea. He left his family on the shore but writes to them often.” “Uhuh.”
Daya grabs a towel and opens the door behind the bed. This cabin, that used to be the tiniest house in the valley, was recently enriched with a sturdy wooden sauna. Elliott follows Daya into the room and sits on the wooden bench while she turns on the water in the shower cubicle next to it. The boiler make a low humming sound as it starts heating the water. Daya shrieks when she tests it with her hand and its still cold. Elliott smirks. “The story will follow his travels at sea.” He continues. “Untill he finds an island in the sea, far away from home.” Daya gets into the warmed up shower with a satisfied sigh. “The island has everything he could wish for. Its sunny and warm and there is a rich fauna and flora. There even is a woman there that fancies his interest.” Daya glares at him judgingly when a second woman is woven into the story, but Elliott continues without hesitation. “But he realized he missed the cold shore that was home to his love. So he rejects the love of another and leaves the sunny island to go home.” Daya’s judging glare makes place for a warmer smile as the story seems to go in the direction she thought best. Elliott walks upto the shower cubicle and kisses her nose. “I’m putting on my coat to check on the greenhouse. Are you coming too?” She nodds and turns of the water. “Oh and darling..” He adds while walking out of the bathroom. “Don’t read to much into my writing, its not always about us.”
