blue (book one) - h.s. ✔️ watty's 2019

chapter 94

"You're not supposed to hold the chickens like that, Parker," Harry warns me annoyed. We've been out here, in his massive backyard, tending to the feathered beasts for a couple of hours now. Sure, when we arrived to the wooden house I was more than aware of its rather, homey sense, but this is a little too much. Slapped right in the back of the white house, lies this entire world of chickens and horses and cows and the whole damn old MacDonald abode.

"Stop that. You're going to hurt him." He takes the wild chicken from my hands, the demon immeditately calming in his embrace. I swear the chicken he's holding sends Harry's signature smirk my way. I blink my eyes rapidly, in disbelief.

"I'm going to hurt him."

Instead of responding, he simply coos the chicken, whispering sweet nothings into its ear as he rocks it back and forth. I stand with my mouth slightly agape at the sight. There's no way this is happening right now.

"Go and grab one of the smaller chicks. . . and be careful not to harm them."

Rolling my eyes, I reluctantly do as he says. The fresh mud from the pig's pen comes up to my waist in the borrowed overalls. I'm sure to any onlooker, we all look like a couple of natural born hillbillies. I've never worn blue overalls for work - well, at all. They're not as comfortable as they look. With each step, the cold mud sloshes inside of my shoes. I feel like I'm stepping on cold goo. Inside of the chicken house are several untouched chicken stables. I go to the one further in the back. Harry told me prior that the smaller, more gentler ones were less antsy about humans reaching for their precious eggs.

When I arrive at the very back of the wooden house, the demon bird is menacingly watching me with its eyes. I unintentionally enter a stare down with the small bird. A stare down I refuse to lose. I circle the chicken nest, never breaking eye contact as it's head twists in a near three sixty to watch me. Slowly, I slide my hand under the bird's body to reach for the collection of eggs she's laid. Surprisingly, she doesn't react much still refusing to back down in the staring competition. Then, all of a sudden, the taunting creature hops off of the small bed, clucking into the distance.

No way.

Collecting the last of the eggs, I let out a breath I now realize I had been holding. The entire house smells like chicken feces. My nose actually burns from the rancid intensity of the smell. With the hand not carrying the basket of eggs, I plug my nose with my forefinger and thumb harshly. The entire chicken house is about the same size as my parent's living room. I've never really been at a farm despite my undying love for animals. I guess this is what Harry meant when he said that his sister Gem has a love for nature that surpass my own. If this is the torture that she finds pleasure in every day, then I will gladly hand over my torch. I cannot imagine having to wake to this daily. Just when I'm about to exit the red house I hear an egg cracked over my head, yolk following suit. I tense up dramatically unaware of the two large hands right above my head. The clear yellow content slides down my head to my mouth making me cringe in disgust.

"Harry!" I shout, shaking my head of the leftover egg.

I turn around to see a too innocent green-eyed boy with wandering eyes. He is refusing to make eye contact with me though there's absolutely no point in him trying to act dumbfounded. The cracked brown egg shell is still in both of his hands. I can't be mad at him when he's like this. These moments are few. It's best to just play along and cherish it weary of the long lapse in time that passes until the next. I take one of the eggs from my basket, tossing it lightly in my hand as he slowly starts to back away. Panic feels me as soon as I see him try to make a run for it. However, Mother Nature, as always, is on my side not a second too late in her actions as he comes face to face with the watery mud below us.

He flips his body around still in the mud to stare at me from below. Instead of complaining about the new wet dirt in places where mud should never be, he starts to make a mud angel in the mess. I roll my eyes, still very weary of the basket of eggs in my right hand. I can tell that he's waiting for me to retaliate or something, but I won't. There's no way I'm ruining my cleaner overalls or that I'm destroying the full basket of eggs I risked my life for. He'll simply have to play in the mud by himself.

I turn around continuing in the direction of the house to store the eggs when I hear him cackling loudly behind me. I tense up afraid he might pull something, but he just lines his steps up with my own, walking beside me.

"You're not a huge fan of the farm life, huh?" he starts, smiling down at me. Without turning to look at him, I focus mostly on not falling into the messiness around me.

"I could never live like this," I breathe honestly. I have so much respect for farmers and everything, but this is just something I could never get used to. Having to hear that damn rooster every morning would drive me to burst my eardrums.

"Ha-ha. It's funny, because this is how I imagine we'd raise our family," he begins, shocking me.

"Our little girl waking up early in the morning to, waking the both of us up to collect chicken eggs. Just how I was raised."

I stop dead in my tracks turning my attention to the pony-wearing boy. His face looks serious and distant in thought. Harry and I have never talked about our future together, or even entertained the idea of how we'd raise our children if we ended up staying with one another. I continue searching his face, expecting a joke to follow right after, but it doesn't. He continues staring down at me with the same unreadable expression, probably looking for me to respond.

"I've always wanted a boy," I play along, continuing in the direction of the house. I don't want to scare him. This never happens, and I've always been curious to know his views on marriage and kids and all of that stuff. Scrunching his brows together, he quickly steadies me as I almost trip over nothing.

"A boy?"

Nodding a reply, I eagerly wait for his response. In the distance, there are several horses eyeing the both of us, or is it just me. I swear this entire farm is out to get me.

"I guess we could have both?" he answers unsure his face in a deeper thought. I don't push it any further as we walk through the back door to the kitchen. I'm sure that this is the first time the green-eyed boy has ever considered his life after graduation. For him, it's much sooner than it is for me. It's expected that the feats of adulthood weigh a little heavier on his mind.

Grabbing the egg container, I begin to gently place each brown and white egg in their respective egg-shaped holes. I hear the back door close, locking, but don't turn around too involved in my own small world.

"What if we have two boys?" he begins, making my stomach flutter. I enjoy that he sees a future with me in it. I've always speculated whether he even saw us together passed college, too afraid to know the answer.

I turn around smiling small at him.

"Two boys so that they could double team the bastard that puts their hands on my little girl," he spits lightly, making me laugh at how much thought he's putting in to all of this. He's sucking on the end of a strawberry, sitting on the kitchen counter, muddy clothes and all, deep in thought.

"Come here," he beckons, turning his attention to me. I throw him a confused expression, but continue towards him regardless. Once I'm in between the both of his legs, he leans down to kiss me tenderly before feeding me one of his fresh strawberries. I moan lightly as the juice from the berry squirts in my mouth. Harry just watches me intently before kissing the top of my forehead lingering a little longer than usual.

"I don't change diapers," he claims, pushing me slightly away so that he can jump down before laughing loudly.

"Come on. I need you to take me a bath."