daisy chains {aurora/ginny}

[k!ah]

Aurora Emerson was flustered.

Cheeks dusted in red I walked through the training center, trying not to ogle at the tributes and trainers and victors that surrounded me. Maybe it was my teenage hormones, but I found it hard to concentrate when the career from two stood not too far off, muscles flexing as he handled a blade with a deadly force that should have had me nervous, not excited. The boys back in six just didn't look the same as the guys here in the Capitol, bodies sculpted to perfection, not tarnished by the struggles of making ends meet.

Sighing I crash next to a girl who fiddled with flowers, an attempt to distract myself. A quick glance at her uniform told me that she was the girl from district 8, and one of the few who looked to be her age. I hadn't paid much attention to the repeats of the reaping that had been playing around the building, but I didn't think she had volunteered- apparently only stupid people did that.

"Hey, I'm Aurora." I reach out to touch the edge of her paper carefully, it was pretty, the way she arranged the flowers carefully. "What are you doing?" I ask, crossing my legs I turn to face her, carefully studying her work.

[✨ zozo.]

When all else fails, find flowers.

As many days in this place as Ginny could count on one hand and she was fed up, paranoid, and absolutely overwhelmed. She'd painted herself silly at the camouflage station, learned knots and traps and plants, still terrified at looking a fool. It was a waste of time doing things she was naturally apt at, Ginny knew this, hearing her sisters scolding her in her ears. But they were at home, and she was terribly far away, and it was all getting a bit too much.

So she found the flowers amongst the berries and leaves hidden in the arbor patches around the training centre and got to work pressing them into the back pages of her notebook, finding solace in the methodical familiarity of it all. This place was far too grey, metallic and sharp, a blade scraped across glass that made her shudder. The colours were a small comfort, yellows and pinks and reds and greens.

"Hello" she smiled at the girl who'd introduced herself, shaking off a wince she had been reserving toward the older kids. Something about strength in numbers amongst the younger children set an ease in Ginny's frantic heart. She'd never been a daredevil, only impulsive and rash, and it had always caused more harm than good. If she was going to make choices in here, she'd make ones she could count on.

And what harm could having another small friend at her side really do for now?

"I'm Ginny - I'm pressing flowers, look!"

She held out the pages to Aurora, flipping through a note-scribbled page from a few days ago and settling on the gentle imprints that had dried beautifully. "I made these ones earlier. Helps me keep track of what's what. Want me to show you how?"

Ginny Lawson can't offer much use in this place, but she can offer this. And she hopes desperately that it's enough for Aurora Emerson.

thank u griffin! <3