Our Story of Seasons: Pete X Claire

Chapter 8: First Morning

The Sun shone through the windows, illuminating the entire room in its gentle glow. Birds could be heard chirping outside. It was the start of a brand, new day.

Claire shuffled in her sleep. Mnngh, morning already...? She rubbed her eyes and slowly opened them. Another morning before work. That was her daily life. But something feels... different.

Before her eyes was a calm, sleeping face. Huh...? Claire blinked a few times, wondering if her vision was still hazy. She drew her hand to this oddly cute face and poked its cheek. A soft groan escaped its lips. Yep, that was someone's skin, all right. Someone's sleeping with me in my bed... huh?

"EEEEEP!" Claire shot upwards and squealed loudly, summoning a hammer out of thin air. "GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU PERVERT!"

BONK!

"GAGH?!" Pete winced in pain and rolled off the bed, falling to the hard wooden floor with an audible thud. "Ouch?!"

"W-Who are you?!" Claire gripped the hammer's handle tightly, ready for a second swing. "What are you doing in my bed?! How'd you get into my room?!"

"... What the hell, Claire?" Pete latched his hands to the bed and pulled himself to his knees.

"... Pete?" Claire blinked a few times, recognizing the supposed pervert. "Is that you?"

"What was that for?!" Pete furrowed his brows in disbelief. His left eye twitched constantly. "You could have knocked me out!"

"W-What are you doing in my room?" She asked, still oblivious to the situation.

"What do you mean in your room?" Pete groaned and clenched his fists on the bed. "This is our home!"

"... Oh?" Claire looked around the house before a wave of realization hit her. This wasn't her apartment! It was the small house on the farm. She and Pete moved in together yesterday.

"God, that hurts...!" Pete rubbed the comically huge bump on his head. It stings! This was her idea... why did I listen to her?

"I'm so sorry!" Claire tossed her hammer away and leaned closer to him. "I thought you were an intruder!"

"I-Intruder?" Pete shook his head in annoyance. "We're living together, Claire!"

"I'm sorry!" Claire drew her palms together in an apologetic manner, bowing her head constantly. "I forgot! I'm so sorry!"

"I should have slept on the floor..." Pete muttered under his breath as he stood up and turned around. "No, outside would have been better."

Claire grimaced at herself. Well, this was a lovely start to a lovely morning on this lovely day. She nearly knocked out her housemate first thing in the morning. Guilt pooled through her chest, leaving a sour taste in her mouth. They warmed up to each other last night. And now I've torn that down!

"Pete, I..."

"Just... stop." Pete grabbed his bag and set it on the table, bearing the ache ringing through his head. "I know you didn't mean it."

"I'm really sorry." Claire slid her legs to the floor. "I forgot I wasn't living alone."

"I guess you've been living all by yourself before." Pete plopped his elbows on the table. "I can understand that, at least... but God, keep that hammer away from me."

"R-Right." Claire stood up from the bed, picked up the hammer, and set it in her backpack. She rubbed her hands across her face, regretful of her actions. We're off to a great start, aren't we?

"Let me remind you this was your idea." Pete narrowed his eyes. "Not mine."

"I feel bad, really!" Claire waved her hands around frantically. "I–..."

A soft rumbling sound followed afterward, prompting Pete to look at Claire.

"O-Oh, er..." A light blush appeared on her face as she held her stomach. "I... haven't eaten anything since last night."

"... Same here." Pete tossed a food packet in her direction. "Catch."

"Ah?" Claire caught the item and inspected it between her hands. It was bread with chocolate filling.

"It's not much, but it'll keep you a bit full for a while." Pete chomped on his bread.

"Oh, thank you..." Claire opened the packet and began eating the bread. It had a soft texture with a delicate chocolate taste. This tastes good. Her gaze drifted to her suitcase. She brought a few instant food packages like her favorite ramen. But that wouldn't be good as breakfast. And speaking of breakfast, how would they deal with that? They don't have a kitchen. Not that I can cook but...

"There's an inn nearby that serves food if I remember correctly," Pete answered the question on her mind. "We can head there for breakfast."

"Is that the inn you stayed at during your vacation?" Claire guessed.

Pete nodded. "I think it's the same inn."

Claire sighed in relief. If she were alone, she'd have no idea about the town. Of course, I would have explored the town by myself and figured it out eventually. But it was nice having this sense of dependence. It strangely brought her comfort.

"I'm going to wash myself a bit," Pete said, grabbing a small towel from his bag. "If you're going to change your clothes, now is a good time."

"O-Oh, right!" She placed a fist on her palm. "Baths! Yesterday, you mentioned there was a hot spring nearby?"

"Ah, the hot springs? Yeah." He walked to the toilet. "What about it?"

"Uhm..." Claire rubbed her arm awkwardly. After the little incident, she hoped she wasn't too bearing on him. "Could you... show me the way there? I'd prefer to take warm baths."

"Sure." He entered the toilet and closed the door.

Claire noticed Pete wasn't as casual as they were last night. I think he's holding a grudge for the hammer. She hoped they'd be able to reconcile in some way. He seemed the type of person to forgive and forget, but if they were going to live together for a long time, she didn't want any hard feelings between them.

She went to her suitcase and grabbed a change of clothes and towels. I should organize some of these in the meantime. While waiting for Pete, she started sorting her clothes and undies. Her eyes scanned over her food items. We don't have storage or a fridge for that matter. They'd really have to improve this house as soon as possible. How'd the old farmer live a simple life, anyway? What's life without a little luxury? She couldn't imagine.

Afterward, Pete stepped out of the toilet, his face wide-awake and his hair tidied up. He walked to the table and grabbed his cap to put it on. "You ready to leave?"

"Yep!" She nodded with her clothes and towels in hand.

"Great." He walked to the door. "Let's go."

Pete pulled the door open and stepped out with Claire, only to be greeted by two faces. One who was familiar; the other was an unfamiliar face.