Love, Elliott (X Reader)

Chapter 3

Elliott's Point of View (POV)

The new farm girl reaches into her bag, pulling out a glossy, red apple.

"Would you like one?" She asks.

"Oh, yes, thank you." I say, taking the fruit from her, grateful.

She pulls another apple out of her bag, biting into it.

I notice she's wearing a bathing suit, her hair and the bench and sand around her, wet. Water runs down her skin. I force my eyes up to her face.

"How's the water?" I ask, taking a bite of the apple she gave me.

"It really nice. Not too cold. Do you swim much?"

"Not very often anymore. I've been trying to keep my focus on this book I'm working on."

"You're writing a book?" She asks with interest.

"Yes. I haven't decided what it's about yet, though."

"Still looking for inspiration?"

"Yeah. I'm sure I'll find it soon enough."

"Yes, I'm sure you will." She echoes, smiling at me.

I take another bite of the apple before I open my book. I pull out my quill and ink, dipping it into the little pot. My hand hovers above the paper, not moving.

Come on, brain. Give me something.

I could write a thriller. But what would it be about? Murders, stalkers, it's all been done before. What about fantasy? Elves, wizards, fairies, witches...

I scrawl on the paper.

On a rainy night in the middle of June...

I stop, lifting my quill. I nibble my bottom lip, lost in thought. A beautiful world erupts in my mind. The sky is bright blue. The water sparkles under the bright, warm sun. Butterflies float around from flower to flower.

I scrawl furiously across the page, putting the image onto paper with words the best I can. But it's missing something.

I peer across the table at (Y/n), my gaze dropping once I see her eyes are already on me. She looks away too.

I reach up, tucking hair behind my ear, my cheeks growing warm.

I think the years of isolating myself in my cabin have caused me to be shy.

I write a few more sentences, seeing if I can start to pull this together towards a plot. But I don't know what to make the plot about. This is where I always get stuck. I wait a few moments for the ink to dry before I close my book.

"Maybe a new quill will help spark some inspiration." I say with a sigh.

"What feathers make the best quills?" (Y/n) asks.

"Duck feathers. The end comes to a sharp point. Not too sharp as to rip the paper. But enough to get a nice, clean line. And the brilliant green and blue is gorgeous. Especially when the sun catches the strands the right way, they sparkle."

"You're very good at describing things. I imagine you're a good author." She smiles.

"Thank you. I reckon you'd be correct. I'm still look for the million dollar idea."

"You know, just come up with something you like. Something that, even if it doesn't end up being a best seller, will make you happy."

"You've got an excellent point, (Y/n)."

"I have to head back to the farm, but keep me updated on your progress. I want to be the first person to buy your book."

"I will definitely do so. I hang around here most days in case you ever stop by. Come to my cabin and say hello." I tell her, hoping to see her again soon.

"Of course, Elliott. It was nice meeting you. I'll see around." And at that she gathers her things and saunters off, leaving me with a little wave before she disappears.

What have I just encountered? She's kind, interested in my activities, and she's beautiful.

I lean back, letting my head fall, the sun landing on my face. I sigh deeply. I feel refreshed.

I gather my things and go inside my little cabin. I set my notebook on the desk and grab a broom. I open my door, sweeping all of the sand out onto my front stoop, then onto the ground. I open a couple windows and let the breeze blow through.

I water my little bonsai tree. I sigh in defeat. It looks more wilted than a few days ago. I must be doing something wrong. I'm sure (Y/n) would know something about that.

Your POV

I go to bed early, dozing off not long after I fall over the covers.

I dream of home, and my family.

The next morning I wake up to the sound of my alarm. I peer over at it. Six in the morning. I sigh.

I start to sit up, letting out a groan as my muscles ache. I'm not used to hard work, apparently. Thankfully all I have to do is some watering today.

I grab my watering can from the shed and fill it in the pond beside my garden. The water is cold. It sends a shiver up my arm and down my spine.

I tip it over, letting the cold water gush out and spill on the ground. I can see tiny green sprouts starting to grow.

I have to refill my watering can a few times. But it doesn't take too long.

I go inside and cook some eggs, eating them while sitting cross legged on the floor in front of my TV, watching the news. It's supposed to rain tomorrow.

I hear a knock on my door, and a high pitched whimpering. I'm not expecting anyone.

I get up and walk across the creaky wooden floor, setting my plate on the counter as I go.

I open the door, seeing a little round lady with curly hair standing on my front step, a dog hiding behind her legs.

"Hello, I'm Marnie. I don't believe we've met. I own a little shop in Cindersnap Forest. I sell animals and farm supplies."

"Nice to meet you, Marnie." I say, smiling and shaking her hand.

"Likewise! Well, I've got a little stray dog here. Do you want to take it? I'm sure it would love to live here on the farm with you. It needs a good home."

I look down at the little light brown dog. It peers up at me with big puppy eyes. It
looks like it needs a good bath. I could use a friend. This farm gets lonely.

"Yeah, I'll take it." I say, peering down at it. Its tail starts wagging.

"I think it's a girl." Marnie says.

"Hey there little one." I say, kneeling down, extending my hand. She slowly trots over, cautiously sniffing my hand. I gently start petting her head. She leans into my hand, her tail wagging faster.

"Aren't you precious." I coo at her. She sniffs my cheek before licking it.

I think I've made a new friend.

"Thank you for taking her. If you need any supplies for her pop in to my shop and I'll give you a good deal. I'll see you later."

"Thank you, Marnie." I tell her.

I look down at the little dog before me.

"You need a name, I suppose. How about..." I pause for a moment, thinking of a cute name so suit the creature before me. She tilts her head to one side, as I do.

"I think I'll call you Marbles. How's that sound?" I stroke her face. She doesn't speak. She just leans her head into my heads.

"Marbles, I'm going to head down to the beach. You stay here and be a good girl."

Once again, silence from Marbles. I leave the door ajar when I walk away, letting her roam the farm.