The rain had passed by morning, but its memory clung to everything the ground still soft, the windowpanes streaked, the scent of wet lavender and cedarwood curling around the corners of Hana's little shop. Outside, Elmsworth lay freshly rinsed and quiet, puddles reflecting a sleepy sun.
Inside, Hana moved by memory and instinct. The kettle sang, the broom whispered over creaking floorboards, and cloth bundles of herbs were tied with practiced hands. It was peaceful, but the kind of peace that hummed with something unfinished something just beneath the surface.
A knock tapped on the front door a light, familiar rhythm.
"Mira," Hana said before the latch even turned.
"You always ruin the suspense," Mira called as she stepped in, arms loaded with a still-warm parcel of cinnamon bread and a folded cloth bag. "I brought breakfast and unsolicited opinions."
Hana smiled. "Your favorites."
They laughed and slipped into familiar conversation. Mira set the bread between them and launched into stories from the market who was courting whom, who wasn't anymore, and who was pretending not to care. They were mid-debate over dried chamomile versus fresh when a floorboard creaked down the hall.
Hana turned her head slightly.
Mira paused. "...Do you have a ghost?"
Before Hana could answer, Ethan appeared, rubbing a towel over his still-damp hair. He wore a faded, button-up pajama shirt and slacks that clearly didn't belong to him. The shirt hung slightly loose in the shoulders, the pants cuffed above his ankles.
The room paused with him.
"Oh sorry," Ethan said, blinking. "Didn't know you had company."
Mira blinked once. Then again. and Then a third time.
Then slowly turned her head toward Hana like she'd stumbled onto a treasure map with her eyes wide open.
"Oh," she said, feigning innocence. "Well, this is newww."
Hana folded her hands on the counter, expression unreadable except for a slight blush. "He stayed because of the storm. That's all."
Mira raised a brow. "Mmm I see and the vintage sleepwear?"
Hana didn't flinch. "He needed something dry, We got soaked and I couldn't have left him in wet clothes. And as for the "Vintage" That's what I had."
Ethan, scratching the back of his neck, offered Mira a polite nod. "Morning."
"Morning," Mira echoed, eyes still gleaming. "You wear village hand-me-downs well."
Ethan chuckled, clearly unsure whether to laugh or retreat. "I'll let you two talk." he said as he left the towel on a nearby stool and vanished back into the hallway,
Once Ethan had left Mira leaned in.
"Well?"
"Well what?" Hana replied.
"You let him stay. That's big."
"It was raining." Hana added
"You never let Jonas stay."
"That's not the same...at all." Hana chuckled
Mira's grin softened, turning curious instead of teasing. "Alright then. No jokes. Just this do you feel safe with him?"
Hana's voice was quieter now. "Yes. I do."
Before Mira could say more, the bell above the door jingled sharp and sudden.
Jonas.
He stepped inside fast, words already forming. "Hana, I was thinking we could"
He stopped.
His eyes landed on the towel draped across the stool. Then at the male boots near the door.
A moment of silence
Then, finally he looked at Ethan re-entering the room, now wearing a fresh shirt and pants.
A shift occurred. Quiet, but heavy.
Jonas's voice was colder now. "Didn't realize this place doubled as an inn."
Hana remained still. "It stormed last night. He stayed for safety."
"Oh, I'm sure," Jonas said flatly. "And I bet you offered him warm tea and breakfast too."
Hana calmly said "I was getting to that"
Jonas looked furious and yelled " You"
Mira stood now. "Jonas, don't"
"I'm not talking to you," he snapped. His eyes glanced back to Ethan. "Let me guess passing through? Looking for a easy distraction? She's not a side quest."
Ethan stepped forward slowly, expression calm but firm. "I never said she was."
"Then act like it," Jonas bit. "Because you'll be gone soon enough."
"I didn't come here to make enemies," Ethan said. "But I'm not here to be tested either."
Jonas scoffed. "You barely know her."
"I'm trying to," Ethan replied. "Which is more than I can say for some people who've known her their whole lives."
That hit hard even Mira looked away.
Hana finally stood, her voice clear but steady. "That's enough. This is my home. My shop. My choice."
Jonas's mouth opened then closed.
He turned without another word, slamming the door behind him.
The bell rang once, sharply and then a sharp clink followed. Something small fell to the ground by the hinge.
Mira flinched to the sound of the door slamming. Hana's brows drew together.
"The lock" Hana said quietly.
Mira stepped over, and leaned forward to inspect. "Yep. Snapped the edge of the frame. One of the bolts popped loose."
Ethan walked to the door slowly, inspecting the latch where the metal had come free from the wood. He exhaled, crouching to retrieve the small broken piece.
"I can fix this," he muttered to himself.
Mira raised a brow, still watching him. After a moment of silence, she stood up straight.
"Well, I'll leave you two in peace," she said with a knowing smile.
Ethan opened the door for her, still holding the broken latch piece in his free hand. Mira paused in the doorway, then turned back briefly and smiled at Ethan.
Hana stood there and said nothing. She simply waited for the sound of the bell and the soft click of the door behind her friend.
Ethan placed the broken piece on the counter and turned back toward her.
"You handled that well," Hana said.
He offered a small smile and said. Better than I would have if you were not here also I should probably be going too. Tomorrow is Monday and I've got an early shift."
"Of course," she said softly.
He paused. "… I'm glad I stayed. Even if the storm ruined your floor....and your door."
"You got me home," she said. "That's what matters."
They stood in the stillness together for a moment longer.
Then Ethan said, "If you ever need me... I'll be right across the field."
Hana smiled, barely. "And if I shout across it?"
"I'll run to you." He replied
She reached out slowly and found his wrist. Her fingers lingered there not for balance, but for something else.
When he left, and the door clicked shut behind him, the hush returned.
But it wasn't the same kind of quiet.
Not the kind she knew.
It was the kind that asked something. That waited.
And Hana, standing alone in the golden spill of light from her window, felt it fully now the truth humming between her ribs:
He had stepped into her world.
And whether she was ready or not...
He was staying.
Chapter 8 – (continued)
Later that night, sleep didn't come for either of them.
Hana's POV
Hana lay on her bed, covers twisted at her feet. Her mind churned with the weight of whispers, with the sound of Jonas' voice echoing behind the gossip. Her fingers pressed to her temple as if she could will herself into peace. But the shop creaked. The wind sighed.
And then
Click.
The front door opened.
The sound sliced through the quiet like a blade.
She bolted upright.
A rush of cold washed through her veins. Her breath caught in her throat.
Then it closed.
Not slammed clicked, deliberately. Like someone had entered quietly.
She froze, every muscle locked tight.
For a heartbeat she wondered if she'd imagined it, if her restless mind was playing tricks. A moment after, she knew better.
"The lock" she whispered
The one Jonas had broken.
Her chest lighthend.
She swung her legs off the bed, bare feet brushing the wooden floor. Every step into the front room was slow and cautious. She walked towards the front door and as she reached out Her fingers found the latch.
With the most gentle of touch the door handle just gave in and fell off from the door
No resistance.
Just as she feared.
She let out a breath a mix of frustration and dread and pulled the door open fully. The movement felt like surrender. Like she was letting the night take what it wanted.
Outside, the wind bit her cheeks. Cold. Restless. The kind of night that felt like it was waiting for something to happen.
She stepped out and pulled her shawl tight across her shoulders, making her way to the small wooden bench just beside the door. Her breath misted the air. The stars above shimmered invisibly to her, but she could feel their hum, their warmth pressing down from the sky like a quiet comfort.
She tilted her face upward, heart aching.
"I wish… I wish you were here right now, Ethan."
Ethan's POV
Sleep eluded him.
He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling of his rented room, the unfamiliar creaks of the old farmhouse only adding to the churn inside his head.
He'd left the shop hours ago, but Hana hadn't left him.
The way her voice sounded when she mentioned the broken door. The way she smiles. That sadness she wore like a second skin, everything about her.
His fingers itched with restlessness.
"Maybe a walk." He said
He didn't know where he was going as he pulled on his coat and stepped outside. The wind didn't bother him, the cold had no effect. He started moving with a slow stride and his steps found a rhythm, and his heart followed a quiet pull.
Before he realized it, he was walking a familiar path not by choice but by muscle memory, later without realizing he had already reached a destination he did plan for.
Hana's POV
The wind rustled the trees, brushing through the leaves like whispers.
And then footsteps.
Slow. Unhurried. Familiar.
Her heart leapt. She straightened slightly.
"Hana?" Ethan said.
"That voice." She whispered barely
Her breath caught again, this time not from fear but relief.
"Ethan?"
A moment passed. Then they both let out small, surprised laughs.
Together, at the exact same time:
"It's almost like I/you called you/me here."
Their laughter floated up into the quiet night like smoke from a fire.
Ethan stepped closer, up onto the porch, hands tucked into his coat pockets. His eyes were gentle. His smile was a balm.
"What are you doing out here? It's freezing."
She gestured faintly toward the door. "It was creaking. And it opened on its own…"
He frowned. "The broken lock"
She nodded, then told him the story how she'd heard the sound, how the latch gave way in her hand, how the air inside shifted like something had slipped in. She didn't try to hide how shaken she was.
"Let me look at it," he said. "You'll catch a cold sitting out here."
Without waiting for permission, he reached out and helped her up with a warm, steady hand. She didn't resist. Together, they stepped back inside.
He slipped off his jacket, knelt beside the doorframe, and examined the damage. His fingers brushed the splintered wood where the lock used to hold.
"Do you have any tools? Maybe your father kept something?"
She nodded. "Hallway closet, bottom shelf. In a wooden box with a brass latch. He never threw anything out."
He returned with it a few minutes later, and knelt back down beside the frame. Hana sat nearby, her shawl wrapped tightly around her, listening to the soft scrape of metal on wood as he worked.
"It doesn't look too bad," he murmured. "Just needs patience."
"That I have," Hana said, her lips curling faintly.
They talked while he worked.
Quiet things. Childhood memories. Favorite scents. The comfort of candlelight. Hana told him how she used to sit out under the stars as a girl, how she never saw them, but always felt them warm, silent companions in the dark.
Ethan smiled at that. He told her how once, as a teenager, he locked himself out and had to sleep in a coal shed, waking up with soot in his ears.
They laughed softly, the kind of laughter that carried weight and tenderness.
Then the space between them shifted, grew gentler.
"I can't tell you what it means to have you here," Hana said finally, voice low. "Not just in the shop. But… really here."
Ethan paused, looking over at her. "You're not alone anymore."
The silence that followed wasn't empty.
It was full of understanding.
Full of warmth.
Later, Hana's breathing slowed. She'd curled up on the old couch, head tilted against the cushion, lips parted in sleep.
Ethan stood slowly, wiping his hands on a rag. He looked at her for a long moment, the faintest smile on his lips.
Then, quietly, he knelt beside her.
Her hand was tucked under her cheek.
He leaned down, speaking just above a whisper. "...you will be alright."
She stirred, then smiled in her sleep, like some part of her heard him anyway.
Carefully, he slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her with ease.
She fit against him like a memory.
He carried her to her room and laid her down gently on the bed, covering her with the blanket and smoothing it over her shoulders. A single stray curl had fallen across her cheek.
He brushed it back tenderly.
"Sweet dreams, Hana," he whispered.
with a final glance and a quiet heart, He then left her room and finish up the final touches on the door and checked to make sure it was repaired and she can rest easy tonight Ethan let himself out of the shop and walked into the deep hush of the night.