flowers & falling // arden x delphine

[d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi]

A R D E N L Y N C H ;

Arden was speechless.

Her flower arrangements had really taken off in District Three. A diplomat from District One had been visiting when he passed her store and instantly fell in love, demanding she do all the arrangements for a banquet he had in a few weeks. There wasn't an opportunity to say no, so off she went and designed the most arrangements for one event she had ever done in her life. They clearly lived in luxury, unlike herself in District Three.

The taste of bitterness filled her mouth.

She had a few days before she needed to return, so she took the opportunity and set up a stand in the heart of the District. Multiple bouquets set out and some single flowers as well. They tipped well in One. And she absentmindedly played with a petal on a daisy waiting for her next customer.

[ines izar d11a 🖤 cait]

Routine has weakened me.

Mother wakes me gently, rouses me out of bed and into a gown too decorative, pins my hair back in a bun held steadily in place by a silver clip. She laces my wrists with rose gold bangles and helps me step into a pair of white slippers, hands me a hessian bag and sends me out the front door with a kiss on my cheek.

I know this dance well.

Something more, something more, it beats softly in my chest. Everything is too soft, too light. Everything is so fragile.

One day, one day, I tell myself over and over, the mantra pulsing in my veins. I’m desperate to believe it as truth.

But not today. The sun has risen already and my feet are tracing a familiar path to the market square, in search of the florist who’s been supplying our flower arrangement needs for years

and years

and years.

Beat, a heavy heart beats, heavy footsteps follow. One minute of tranquil turns to ten seconds of frenzied panic in a twisted mind – I freeze, turn around, set off running.

Years of routine, passed like a split second in time.

Running where? I don’t know. Wish I did. But there’s a burning hole in my heart mixed with desire for difference. Break the chain, choose your own destiny.

Maybe it’s fate that puts the pop-up flower stand in my path of flight. I don’t know. Don’t have the time to ponder it – make a snap decision to take a chance on the unknown.

Breathless, gasping slightly for air as I resurface from the mess of my mind, “do you have any pink roses?”