You walked through town early in the morning. It was really early. Still dark out early. You had no idea why you were up at this hour. Maybe it was that question haunting you. The question didn't haunt you back in the city when you had a crush because the guy usually made the answer obvious. But here, recently, the question had embedded itself in your sub-conscious. No. He doesn't, you assured yourself. If he did he would show it. I'll keep dreaming he does but he doesn't. You glanced up and found yourself in the park. You sat on a dark bench and watched the sunrise. You still didn't know why his behavior had changed slightly. You liked the behavior change, though. A few days had passed since the walk, and you were still giddy about it. Behind you, you heard the town waking up. You heard opening doors and the twitters of birds. You walked down the stairs, out of the park and past the town. You hadn't collected shells on the beach in a while, so you decided to go there. There weren't many shells on the beach to collect so you walked to the shore and watched the hermit crabs. You watched them dig into the soil and you also saw some crabs without shells. "Y/N, what are you observing today?" You blushed and whipped your head around at Elliott's voice.

"I'm observing the crabs, there are hermits and there are some without shells." Elliott smiled.

"You like observing the critters, don't you? What else do you like doing?"

"Well, farming's not bad." Elliott looked at you.

"I see." You glanced at him.

"Take it as this, I enjoy it a lot better, than my old job." His smiled widened. "Sure, it's a lot of work, but once you get in to it, as I've told you before, it's fine."

"The routine... yes." Elliott said to himself. He gazed at you again. "I have to go now, see you soon." You watched him leave.

~~~~~

You walked out your door and saw a parcel on the ground. You opened it and read the letter:

Dear, Y/N

I commissioned Leah to do this painting for you. It's of something you like. Well, I hope we'll meet again soon, my flower,

Elli.

You blinked. That was the first time Elliott had referred to himself as Elli, the nickname you gave him. You took the painting out and you gasped. It was a painting of a jellyfish! Not just any jellyfish, the jellyfish you saw at your first festival. You smiled at the gift. You raced back into your house and dropped off the painting. You wrote down on a piece of paper:

Dearest Elliott,

Thank you for this gift, I really love it. I still hope to read your novel once it's done. But how are you? Are you Well? I'm fine and well, anyway, see you soon,

Y/N.