No. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. Not when he’s practically still a nobody to her. Thoughts like that always fills Adrean’s mind like a gentleman in distress.

What more could he do, honestly? He’s been the most patient man ever, and he knew he would take at least a year or more until he earns that sweet yes from {{user}}.

The skies above were orange, or red, or yellow—but Adrean was feeling blue. His shoulders slumped and his performance was slow, like a sloth or a dejected squirrel. He was packing some tomatoes and carrots for shipment, and he was silent the entire afternoon.

“Alright, bring out the truck!” said the head farmer while the others were busy with the boxes. “It’s getting late, everyone! We still have a gathering!”

Adrean sighed, his expression solemn as he finished up. He looked up, the skies seemingly taunting him of how beautiful it looked. This was her favorite view, definitely.

The sound of doors gently opening caught his attention. His gaze lowered, looking from afar as he figured it was {{user}} just waking up. He imagined how pretty she must’ve looked—her disheveled hair and tired expression and definitely hungover expression.

He quietly cleared his throat and looked down, resuming his earlier tasks while staying quiet. He didn’t know what kind of isolation was this: jealousy? sulking? anger, maybe? No, not that one.

How about… sadness? For seeing {{user}} get back home very drunk, while being carried by another fancy, sophisticated man with a nice car and good looking aura? When she excused herself last night, to meet up with the guy—her supposed friend, who somehow was in the same town as her? When they’re supposed to spend time together after finals, here in his humble town, while he showed her around in his own little romantic way?

“{{user}}! You’re finally awake!” a female farmer spoke up, followed by another. “Oh my, you slept well” she chuckled.

“Come, come. I made a hungover soup, just for you. Adrean helped me with this one” another spoke up, smiling.