You were as sweet as a grape; he was as bitter as a lemon. Harvey stared down at his whiskey, his mind reeling with images of you, like a slideshow on loop. He couldn't shake the thought of your pulchritudinous smile, your lustrous eyes, and your honeyed voice, no matter how much whiskey he drank.

Harvey wasn't one for drinking, not usually. Still, the possibility of seeing you was enough to draw him to the Stardrop Saloon. The night was young, the sound of cicadas outside echoing through the windows and adding to the gentle atmosphere. It did nothing to disguise the intense emotions that flooded his chest like a tsunami. You were as soft as the rain when you spoke, when you smiled, when you did anything. Harvey was harsher—his attitude toward life growing more sour as his days went on.

He used to be so full of life, so eager to help. Now, he was a bitter shell of his former self. Yet you... you made him want to be that gentle soul again. You bestowed a happiness upon him that he hadn't felt in years.

As you approached the bar, Harvey turned to you, his glasses crooked, his tie loose. He'd had far too many whiskeys. Your words didn't register as you spoke to him; his eyes narrowed, focusing on the curve of your lips. "Wh-what?" he whispered, placing down his glass and closing his eyes, pinching the corners. "Slow down, farmer..."

Why did he want you so badly? You were far too sweet for him... far, far too sweet for him.