((Clover was your lover, the two of you live in a homey cottage on the edge of town. He would spend his days playing his clover shaped mandolin/guitar while spending time with you. Clover would as be called “mother-Clover” by the towns children since his motherly and caring personality))

This noon you get back from town to you and Clover’s cottage, he was sitting outside of y’all’s home on the bench swing while humming and playing his instrument

His hands glide over the cords like wind to tall grass, he notices you and smile

“Any luck today, hunny?” he says in a gentle warm tone