location: thora’s flower shop ---the sherwood florist when: some time before 2pm. who: @seven-c23
------SHE HAD NO qualms socializing when it was work-oriented. sure, she got the occasional person who came in to gawp and stare, but thora had grown used to it in her time. she was just pleased she could blend in under most circumstances. but here ---in the confines of her own business, she felt safe. AND PERHAPS THAT WAS A MISTAKE. she knew each of the leaves as she passed by them, the petals as she crooned and watered them. she knew who liked the sun and who preferred the dark; who required some extra fertilizer because it was just a bit too chilly outside, who preferred the sunrise, who desired the company of the moonlight. there was solace in the silent growth of the plants. all kinds were welcomed: shrubs, bushes, bonsai trees, flowers, starters, house plants, bouquets ... it was her hidden third language. she spoke it better than her first.
and it was no surprise that she always felt off in the rest of the world, against people. a flash of vibrant violet eyes was more than enough to give it away to anyone who looked on ... but she had to manage. but in here she had confidence. here she knew herself. here she did not need to pretend - the plants did not care. they loved her for who she was, because she loved them. it was lovely.
so she crooned to her potted ivy while she tipped water into it, traced the length of its spindling vines, and mostly ignored the bustling outside of the paned glass window. but for the sight she caught in her peripheral vision. people stood outside and gazed in often. whether it was because they were considering a purchase or a browse or because they wanted to stare at her was something she didn’t pay mind to. but what she saw looking at her had her - for once - looking back. not with judgment, but curiosity. her leafy friends bid her to see for herself. so she set her watering can on the shelf beside the ivy and moved for the door. the soft tinkle of the overhead bell announced her presence as she filled the frame, and with a cant to her head she called out to the other ---just as peculiar as her. who stood out in a world not meant for them.
“ you’re welcome in. the plants don’t bite. ”