“Preparing dinner,” Leon replied truthfully. Though the purple-haired girl hadn’t introduced herself, her distinctive hair color made it easy enough for him to guess her identity.
“So you’re the one who inherited this old farm, right?” The girl gave Leon a quick once-over, then took a small step back and explained.
“Sorry. I knew soone had inherited the farm, but I didn’t know you’d already arrived. I just ca over without thinking.”
“It’s fine. But it’s not exactly safe for a girl to be wandering around here at night.” Leon shook his head and asked, “Aren’t you afraid?”
“Not at all. I like the night and quiet places. Before you moved in, this farm was my favorite spot to co at night. It’s peaceful here, no one to bother .” She tilted her head, then asked a bit awkwardly, “Do you think I’m weird?”
“Not at all. Everyone has their own preferences,” Leon replied with a shake of his head.
“Thanks for understanding. Oh, I’m Abigail. What’s your na?” Her face brightened at his answer, and she stepped closer without hesitation.
“Leon,” he said. “Nice to et you.”
“Sa here. We don’t get many newcors in Stardew Valley. Everyone in town’s a familiar face. It’s nice to et soone new.” Abigail nodded in agreent.
Leon smiled. Seeing she had no intention of leaving, he asked, “Have you had dinner yet? Want to eat together?”
“Are you asking
out? We’ve only just t.” Abigail blinked at him in confusion.
Leon winced inwardly. He’d forgotten that the culture here leaned more Western. He had only ant it as a polite gesture, but to her, it might have sounded like a date.
After all, in Western culture, sharing a al outside of friendship was usually sothing couples did.
He quickly explained, “Sorry, I didn’t an it that way. I just thought it might be livelier with company.”
“You’re strange. But you seem like a good person.” Abigail smirked, unintentionally handing Leon a ‘good guy’ card.
“Why do you say that?” Leon was puzzled. How had he earned that label so suddenly?
“Just a gut feeling. I can’t really explain it. I just think you’re not a bad guy… though definitely a bit odd,” Abigail said, looking conflicted.
Leon only shrugged. He didn’t mind her calling him strange. Glancing at the pot, where steam was curling upward and the scent of at was in the air, he asked again, “So, do you want to stay and have sothing to eat? If not, I still think you should head back soon. It’s not safe for a girl to be out so late.”
“Well, since you’ve invited
twice already… I guess I’ll stay for a bit.” Abigail hesitated, then decided to accept.
Leon was a little surprised, but he said nothing more. Once he knew she was staying, he went back inside the cabin to fetch an extra set of utensils.
When he returned, he found Abigail crouched by the firepit, poking at the burning wood with a stick.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to try making a campfire outdoors. That’s part of why I ca over when I saw you,” she explained eagerly when she noticed him.
“So you’re the adventurous type?” Leon concluded.
“Yeah, you could say that. I don’t like a quiet, uneventful life. I feel like I should do sothing special. That way, when I’m old, I won’t regret living such an ordinary life.” Abigail’s eyes lit up, clearly pleased by his assessnt.
Leon opened his mouth to say sothing, but since they had only just t, he decided against it. He simply set the utensils down and turned his attention back to the fire and the simring pot of at porridge.
They stayed like that for a while—one squatting, one standing—watching the fire and the pot. Leon felt a bit awkward, but Abigail seed perfectly fine, occasionally sneaking glances at him before turning her gaze to the pot again, a curious look on her face.
“It’s about ready. How much do you want?”
Lifting the lid, Leon saw the at shredded and tender, the rice grains plump and swollen. He tossed a handful of dirt into the firepit to put out the flas, then grabbed a ladle and began serving.
“Just half a bowl. I can’t eat too much at night,” Abigail said.
Leon filled her bowl generously anyway, with extra at. After all, when you had a guest, you had to show so hospitality.
The porridge was simple—just salt, oil, and pork—but the rich aroma of at mixed with the soft, soup-soaked rice had a certain charm.
Leon found it comforting, downing two large bowls without pause.
Abigail, in contrast, ate slowly and neatly, taking small spoonfuls, cooling them with her breath before tasting, savoring each bite without much expression.
“Good?” Leon asked after setting down his bowl, feeling nearly full.
“It’s… okay,” Abigail replied, finishing her last spoonful.
“You’re blunt,” Leon chuckled, taking her bowl. “Well, since you’re done, you should head ho.”
“Alright.” She nodded and, without another word, turned and walked off into the night.
Leon was left staring at her retreating back, speechless. Then he simply shrugged and took the bowls back inside.
After washing the dishes and cleaning up, he went through his nightly routine and went straight to bed.
Since taking over the farm, he hadn’t stayed up late once. By eight or nine, he was always ready to sleep—well before midnight.
With nothing else to do at night, sleeping was the best option.
The next morning, Leon woke naturally after a full night’s rest. The sky outside was dim and overcast.
He got out of bed, walked to the window, and glanced at the clouds. A look at his watch confird it wasn’t too early.
“Looks like it’s going to rain.”
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