⠀ ⠀ ⠀ on break til 07.05.22 * ⠀˚✧ ⋆｡˚
❝ 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘦 ❞
never, in all his ten years of living,
would have thought that a girl
named after a spring flower would
be the most magical thin...
Sunday noon was a no show as well. She was getting a bit tired of it, really.
Her little forest patch was starting to feel dull, the magic of it sucked out by the outsider she let in. Even the fireflies couldn't cheer her up anymore. She kicked the tree trunk in anger. Stupid boys. Stupid boys who broke promises. Stupid boys who disappear without a reason. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
She huffed. Fine, if Harry wasn't going to show up there, then she'll go to him. She'll seek him out herself and demand answers because she was living in a world where owls descended on Little Whinging in the daytime not once, not twice, but four times in five days (crazy, she says, absolutely crazy). And she was Hyacinth Alon Dimalanta, she's a never-fading wave of spring. She can find one rather idiotic boy before the day's end.
She just had to figure out how to find his house. Somehow.
She brushed the stray baby hairs out of her face and marched off through the forest, back towards the pristine suburban homes. If only she had someone who knew their way around the town...
That's it.
Her feet never flew faster than at that moment — excluding any time she saw the ice cream truck, or any amusement park visits — as she raced past the playground, down Magnolia Road, turned a hard left, and crossed the road to Magnolia Crescent. She turned right, then another hard left, squeezing past the lopsided bushes — Mrs Evans never really could teach her son Mark how to shape them properly, but she never had much of an expert in gardening if the colour scheme was anything to go by.
She didn't slow down, not even when she crawled under the small hole in the peeling fence and into a garden nightmare most of the Little Whinging occupants would faint at the mere thought of. Crops sprouted out of pots like the living dead, vines littered the ground like a carpet, a handful of carrots, potato, and ginger grew over in the west of the farm-like field, and two beautiful pumpkins the size of her face grew not too far away from it. As she approached the house, the broken window with metal frames that were rusted ajar came into view, mini herb planters and medicinal flowers dotting between the decade-old rust. Old rubber boots that she'd grown out of were filled with soil, chilis and cherry tomatoes hanging in dozens, all red and fresh. But she couldn't stop to pick some juicy snacks, she was on a mission.
