will
she/her
twenty-nine
november 12
rustboro
heterosexual
horticulturist
civilian
we sewed all the holes we had to breathe
TAG WITH @willow
willow atkins
blackberry [m]
POSTED ON Oct 26, 2021 16:45:55 GMT
another day off. she'd given roman the same. at first, it had been an attempt for her to get the boy to willingly spend some quality time with her. she'd asked him out to his aunt grace's farm for her end-of-season berry picking, but he'd not-so-politely opted out and left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. the words fine, i'll go by myself, as if that proves anything to anyone.
she brings a basil plant tucked under her arm and hands it to grace with a kiss on her cheek. the elderly woman smiles and hands her a basket in return.
"good wishes to you as well, my dear," she says and willow smiles. grace is about the only other person who knows the language of flowers, hence willow's closeness to her, and her 'auntie' status despite not being a blood relative.
"no roman today?" she asks and willow sighs. "ah, give the boy time. he'll come around eventually. you ought to have had a daughter. would've saved you a lot of headaches." she chuckles as willow rolls her eyes and brushes past her with a wave.
usually she can stay and chat with grace about her woes, but she's still high-strung after roman's disappearance. getting away from the house and out in the fields, she thought, ought to do her some good.
so she picks in almost-silence, humming to herself as she examines vines and plucks the juiciest blackberries she can find.
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