Astrid Magnussen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
white_oleander) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2019-04-09 05:43 am
white_oleander) wrote in fandomtownies2019-04-09 05:43 am
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Covent Garden Flowers; Tuesday [04/09].
Astrid was sort of hoping the mood she'd found herself in yesterday would have passed by now, but, if anything, from a critical perspective, it only seemed to have gotten worse. She didn't think a whole lt about it, though: she was fifteen, it was spring, she was probably going to start her period soon, and the body did strange things when elements like that so perfectly aligned. She didn't like how it seemed to invade her every thought this time around, though, filling her sketchbook with unbidden body studies and anatomical practice.
At least it was the week before prom, so she had plenty of excuse to just throw herself into making little corsages and boutonnières, fussy work that required the attention of her hands to keep busy, while her mind tried not to point out that most of the things that drew us to flowers...color, scent, the way their petals lay...were actually designed to attract pollinators, thus a version of their own mating dance, because everything was about sex, sex, sex...
And at least she had dress shopping with Sabine later to look forward to, which in itself seemed like a sort of bizarre statement, but it would be kind of fun to just do this stupid high school thing with her.
Even if that, too, at its core, just seemed more pageantry for mating rituals, the females of the species improving upon their plummage to make themselves more appealing for pursuit...
...if she started to get irritated with her own hormones at any point, all she had to do was picture Sabine's face if she told her that, and she felt a little better.
Covent Garden is open!
At least it was the week before prom, so she had plenty of excuse to just throw herself into making little corsages and boutonnières, fussy work that required the attention of her hands to keep busy, while her mind tried not to point out that most of the things that drew us to flowers...color, scent, the way their petals lay...were actually designed to attract pollinators, thus a version of their own mating dance, because everything was about sex, sex, sex...
And at least she had dress shopping with Sabine later to look forward to, which in itself seemed like a sort of bizarre statement, but it would be kind of fun to just do this stupid high school thing with her.
Even if that, too, at its core, just seemed more pageantry for mating rituals, the females of the species improving upon their plummage to make themselves more appealing for pursuit...
...if she started to get irritated with her own hormones at any point, all she had to do was picture Sabine's face if she told her that, and she felt a little better.
Covent Garden is open!