( @dcwdrops ) Finley takes the route that allows them to avoid as much of the festival as they can on their way to the General Store. Their return was relatively quiet, as they wanted it to be. They had only texted Malia so they could leave some of their stuff at her house, but they weren’t ready to face everyone else yet. It’s Monday, though, and they have a job they have to go to. And they have to face the person that they’re most scared to face. They’re fine, is what they want to believe as they stand outside the doors, hands sweaty, mouth dry, heart trying to beat out of their chest and make a run for it. They’re already five minutes late, but it becomes ten when they spend five more minutes just standing there, trying to will their legs to move.
They do, eventually, slowly and painstakingly. Usually, they would have thrown out a greeting as they walked through the entrance. Usually, however, doesn’t exist anymore, so they’re quiet and jittery and nervous as they make their way to the counter, eyes darting around to see if they catch a glimpse of her.
@dcwdrops - it’s jillian’s birthday & we’re pretending jackie was here on time
Sloane knocks on the Mercer general store before placing a parcel that is wrapped in purple tissue paper. Inside is a carefully folded sweater. Fae quickly ducks away as the door swings open. A small piece of paper with Jillian’s name written contains a quick note.
Dear Jillian,
Here’s to making another trip around the sun, and defending the small businesses of this town. Happy birthday, I hope Brioche gives you extra attention today.
believe i sent you ben and jillian already, but a bizzie kiss for you too
Of all the new farmers in town, Ben enjoyed spending time with Lizzie the most. She was brazen and vivacious. She also happened to be the nosiest person he’s met in the Valley so far. Even so, he did enjoy spending time with her, especially at the saloon. Before she came along, he hadn’t had much luck with finding someone who could match his skills in pool. After a particularly surprising match, the two of them were leaning against the pool table, Ben in mid-sip of his beer when he felt Lizzie building up to one of her prodding sessions. Seeing an opportunity to distract her, he shifted his stance so that his left side was still leaning onto the pool table, but his right hand was reaching around to place the bottle in hand onto the pool table to Lizzie’s left. This effectively boxed her in-between the pool table and Ben, a smirk on his face as he looked down at her. “You know what I think we should do instead of talking?” He asked, gaze flickering from her eyes to her lips. Slowly he leaned down towards her, lips barely brushing against one another as he moved one of his hands up to cup her cheek. Just as her eyes fluttered shut, he took a moment to appreciate her face before shifting to give her a light peck on the tip of her nose. “I think we should call it a night,” he said as straighten up, taking a step back. In only a matter of seconds he was walking towards the entrance, turning around back to her briefly. “Goodnight, Lizzie. Looking forward to our next night together.” With that said and a wink sent her way, he was out the door before she could stop him.
art, lizzie, and kiran had gotten into the habit of hanging out at kiran’s barn house watching netflix on his tv. he actually doesn’t mind it. he wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone out loud how lonely it can be out here. they’re all sitting piled up on the couch, kiran in the middle of the two watching some sitcom that kiran can’t remember the name to, but he’s too busy watching both of them react to what’s happening on screen. he thinks of where they’ve started and he knows that they still have a long way to go he’s proud of both of then. it’s this rush of affection that he didn’t know he had in him looking at both of them, feeling... proud. he reaches over to kiss lizzie’s cheek and mess with arts hair. he shakes his head reaching to grab the remote and turn up the volume on the tv and stealing snacks from each of their plates for himself. he smiles, wanting to remember this moment. it was a good one.
( everything is fine! | @dcwdrops ) it’s late. finley’s head hurts. their hands are sweaty no matter how many times they wipe them on the fabric of their pants, and they don’t think their heart has stopped beating this quickly. all they know is they need to see jillian now. they don’t know why; they don’t know if it’ll calm them down or make everything ten times worse, but their mind won’t stop racing until they see her.
so finley stands in front of the mercer house, shifting their weight from foot to foot, running a hand through their incessantly before they finally get the courage to knock on the door, this rapid, nervous thing-- like a hummingbird on the verge of a panic attack.
( @dcwdrops ) it’s subtle, but elaine’s hands tremble as she turns off her phone, deposits it in the drawer of her nightstand, and shuts it. she sits on the edge of her bed, head falling into her hands. okay, fine-- the first note was a prank. it’s frustrating, but they move on. if joja is on the table now, though, that changes everything. people who were once barely suspects are now front and center, those who were in the center now fall to the back, and it’s all just... she sighs. she doesn’t want to think about it.
then, she remembers she’s not the only one in the house now. she stands up, slips on her robe. the least she can do is check up on her guest. the floorboards creak as she steps out of her room, closing the door behind her. what was previously her room when she lived here with her grandfather is now a guest room, with the room right across from it being... well, she doesn’t go into that room anymore. she waits for a moment before knocking gently. “lauren... are you awake?”
Finley is calculated. They wait until it’s midnight. They hope her phone is on silent. They hope she doesn’t pick up, because if she really did, they wouldn’t be able to talk. They wouldn’t know what to say, even if they had a script in their head.
They’re a coward. This isn’t surprising.
And they’re good at calculating, so it works. There’s a resounding beep after a couple of rings, and Finley is quiet. This is a bad idea. They think about hanging up. They don’t deserve to be calling her, anyway. That stupid missed call notification will be damage enough. Just add it on to the pile, why don’t you?
But the moment they let out a couple of words, they can’t stop.
“Hey, Jillian. Um, I...” There’s a few seconds of silence. You can almost hear the hesitation, the dozen second thoughts. “This is... I’m not sure if you’ll listen to this, or-- fuck, you might have me blocked already for all I know. Which is... it’s fine. I mean, not that you need me to tell you that, but--” Another pause. Get your thoughts together or hang up.
“I, um... I’m coming back soon, probably in a day or two. I just thought I’d warn you, you know, since we work together and stuff... If you... I don’t know, if you want to have Stanley take your shifts or something, that’s fine.” There’s an audible sigh as they tug at the fabric of their blanket. “... I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t fix shit, but... I’m really sorry. I didn’t... It doesn’t matter why I did what I did. You didn’t deserve that-- You don’t. You’re...”
They tuck their knees into their chest, which has felt tight and unruly and clouded ever since they left Stardew Valley in Sloane’s van. They wanted to run. A part of them still does, but it doesn’t feel like they can. It doesn’t feel like there’s a right choice, or even a choice that makes them feel less weighty. They think of leaving forever, and they think of coming back, and both scenarios leave them on the verge of a panic attack. And then they think of Jillian, and... and it’s harder to imagine they were ever a good person.
“I came to the valley because I didn’t, um-- I wasn’t in a good headspace, and I had just finished a, um, a really long relationship with someone...” Both of they faces; Jillian and Maisie, reflections of the same hurt. Fuck. “I wasn’t ready for another one. I, um, I don’t know if I still am, or if I ever will be. I don’t know if I’m... if I’m any fucking good at it, honestly.” Their choked out laugh is humorless. “I should have... I should have told you something. I should have... I just... I thought it would be nothing at first. I met you, and you were... well, you, and it was like... fuck, I don’t know, I thought... it felt nice to be around you. Even when you were insulting me or, like, when we were bantering, it was... it was nice.”
Until it started to morph into something more. And they should have stopped it. They should have said something, but they didn’t. They liked the feeling too much. Even if they weren’t ready for someone new, that didn’t mean a part of them didn’t secretly want it.
“That night in October, in your room. It... I think I fell there--” It’s the first time they admit their feelings-- their actual feelings-- out loud, and it hits them. Their next words come out shaky. “You were so honest with me, and... and I told you things that I had never really talked to pretty much anyone about and-- and I just thought: fuck.” They laugh again, this time as a poor attempt to hide a sob. “I’m fucking doing it again. I’m... fucking things up again.”
They can’t even remember what the point of this message was anymore.
“I’m sorry that you... that you had to find out I’m an asshole. Or, um, that you had to find out this way. I... I mean, I got a text from Malia saying I apparently got evicted, so, um, I guess Karma is already doing some work, huh?” They wipe at the tears falling down their cheeks. They feel so small, and lost, and there’s no clear sign pointing anywhere anymore. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m... I just thought you should know that it... that it was something. Um, to me. It... it was. It is. It... Fuck, sorry, I feel like such a mess. I don’t want you to think that... that it was all in your head, or-- or that I never felt... I’m sorry you had to waste all that energy on me. But I... I felt so many fucking things for you, Jill. I did... I still--”
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