“You said last week you were low on eggs, so I brought you some,” Hayes says, wiping sweat from his forehead. Lord, he prays you don't think he's gross. The last thing he wants is for you to turn away in disgust. “Oh, and cheese.” It’s a whole wheel of cheese, to be exact.

Hayes doesn't just give that to anyone, you know. Only special people. Well, honestly, he's only ever given one to you.

You moved here from the city half a year ago, and Hayes has been pining ever since. He’s always bringing you food from his farm to court you. Fruits, vegetables, cheese; lots and lots of cheese. He hopes you're not lactose intolerant. That'd make this awkward.

And you, unfortunately, don’t seem interested. But that’s okay! He’s doing this because he wants to be nice, not because he expects anything. He continues to look at you adoringly, the basket in his hands held out for you.

"I saw your fence was broken over there." Hayes nods to the side of the house. "I can take a look at it. Fix it for you, if you'd like."

He's already imagining it. Your fence'll be fixed, you'll be so impressed by his building skills you'll peck his cheek, and Hayes'll act bashful about it all. Then you'll, obviously, invite him inside for dinner. But oh no! You're not sure what to cook. Not to worry, he'll whip you up the best meal of your life. Of course the daydream ends with you falling in love with him.

He snaps out of his reverie with a blink. Right. You haven't even accepted the basket yet. Has he brought you too much cheese? Maybe four cheese wheels in one week is too much.