Chapter 1

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The sun was warm and inviting as you woke up to the sound of your roster in the field, streaks of light seeped through the curtain blocking your window. You slowly opened your eyes and tossed off your blanket, feeling a slight chill from the air as it hit your warm skin. You put on your slippers as you walked on the hardwood flooring in your bedroom to your dresser and took out an orange shirt and pair of overalls. You put them on, plus some socks and your brown boots as well. It was a normal Sunday morning for you. You walked to the kitchen and made yourself a simple breakfast, you cracked open two eggs and made them sunny side up, plus some toasted bread that was leftover from last night. You ate quickly and washed your plate, making quick work of also cleaning up from last night since you had made some strawberry and blueberry jams.

When you were done you walked out of your little cottage and out into the fields, you watered your crops, fed your livestock, and went out into your apple orchard to pick the ripe apples. You walked out with a sun hat and a few baskets, plus a ladder, and placed it against a tree to reach for the apples. You picked about a basket full when you heard a rustling sound coming from behind you, you hopped off the ladder and placed the fruit down as you walked over to the bushes. You had sweet berry bushes all around your area, as to ward off any type of larger animal and mobs, but sometimes you found the occasional bunny that got trapped in the thorns. You took out a small bush cutter as you walked over, you quickly ran over when you saw something yellow in the leaves. You heard a groan as you went and cut off the branches of the bush, seeing as it was in fact a person and a teen at that. You helped the boy out of the thorns, but he has seemed to have lost consciousness. You carried the boy to your home, he was surprisingly light for how tall he was, he was at least a good 6 inches taller than you!

((Y/N) is 5' 8")

You carry the boy to your home and set him down on your couch. You notice his wounds and quickly get to work on helping him out, he seemed to be at least 17, and he had blonde hair and was wearing a torn up red and white shirt and some weathered jeans. You looked through your shelfs and found some bandages and a pair of tweezers to take out the thorns from the bushes. The time flies as you clean and patch up his wounds, you then place a wool blanket over him so he wouldn't get cold as you took his shirt to patch up. It was already getting close to sunset as you sewed his shirt up. It wasn't that hard, after all, you lived alone for the last 10 years on your own ((Y/N) is 32), and fixed your own clothing by yourself. You placed his shirt on the coffee table next to the couch and went outside to collect your things that you left outside when you had found the boy.

You heard a yell as you walked back to your home, you feared for the worst and someone had gotten into your home uninvited. You quickly opened the door to find the boy standing on the couch, fear was evident in his eyes as he looked at you and screamed again, you quickly put your hands up in a way to show that you meant no harm to the boy, you didn't move. He seemed to calm down as he saw that you didn't react to shut him up, though he still stood on the couch, he seemed to have put on his shirt before he yelled.

"Where am I?" The blonde asked as he looked at you, you put your hands down as you responded,

"You're on my farm, and inside my home. I found you on the perimeter of my farm in some sweet berry bushes." You answered calmly, you smiled a little, and then spoke again, "I'm (Y/N), you don't have to tell me your name if you're not comfortable with it." You never liked forcing people to do something they didn't want, you felt bad forcing people to do something. The boy was confused why you didn't press him to tell you his name or how he got out here, but he didn't say anything about that. He just sat on the couch as you asked something else,

"Do you want chicken soup or roasted chicken?" You asked as you started to put away the ladder and the empty baskets, you placed the one filled with apples on the coffee table, the boy looked at you and then spoke,

"Roasted is fine.." He seemed to be confused about why you were asking him this, he seemed to have never met someone who was so patient with him, especially after being yelled at. You nodded and smiled as you went into the kitchen and started to cook, the boy just looked at you through the small doorway between the living room and kitchen, he seemed bored.

"You can ask me anything dear, I don't bite." You looked back and smiled as you joked and continued cooking, the sun had set by this time, the clock read 6:43pm. The blonde hesitated to speak,

"Why are you so calm?"

"Well, you are injured, I couldn't leave you out there, and if you wanted to attack me, wouldn't you have done it sooner?" You questioned as you put the chicken in the furnace, stoking the fire below. You washed your hands as he asked more questions,

"How did you find me?"

"You were stuck in the thorns of my bushes, I cut you out and carried you into my home."

"Why aren't you asking for my name?"

"Because I don't want you to feel obligated to dear, it's your choice and I won't disrespect it." You dried your hands as you turned off the faucet.

"Tommy.."

"Pardon?"

"My name is Tommy." 

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