Daisy
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Daisy

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Send “#” for a RANDOM text.
[text]: do you know how much sunlight geraniums should be getting?[text]: is it bad that i assume you know everything about plants because your name is Daisy[text]: you ARE a plant[text]: a beautiful flower[text]: ANYWAYÂ
Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.
[text]: hey, what are you doing on Christmas? do you already have plans?[text]: because if you don’t, i’m cooking enough for a small village and i’m alone so it would be kind of lame for me to eat it all by myself[text]: is it bad that i already made four pies?[text]: who am i kidding, pie is never bad
♟
♟: Patching up a woundÂ
July 2, 1977
One thing was entirely undeniable in regards to Daisy Hookum- she was far too gentle. Not in a negative sense, in that her gentility was something that should be scolded, but in the sense that all should be afraid to crush it, to squander it, to take it for granted. It was something that Alice wanted so desperately to preserve, but that she knew wouldn’t last- it never did in wars like this.Â
Her gentility was evident in the way that she wrapped Alice’s hand in gauze, never faltering as she stood over a smattering of broken clay, soil, and a particularly nastily writhing plant, just at her feet. She simply trusted it- despite the fact that it was quite peeved at Alice for accidentally nicking its stem and then dropping it on the floor. As far as Alice was concerned, the bloody plant had deserved it; it had cut her hand simply because she had been trying to trim it.Â
But Daisy had seen the scene that Alice had created and had simply smiled. The younger girl never seemed to have any hesitation when it came to helping people; analytical Ravenclaw that she was, Alice only assumed at the time that it was because of her roots in Hufflepuff. But, given a moment to really consider the girl before her, made of sunshine and optimism, Alice knew that it was just Daisy.Â
“Guess I deserve it,” Alice snorted, shaking her head, “Pissing off plants; nasty business. Dangerous- but someone’s got to do it.”
Daisy glanced at the vines on the floor between her feet, the smile never leaving her face as the plant curled around her ankle like a small animal at the feet of its mother, “It was just scared, is all. You would have done the same thing.”
Alice furrowed her brows, ready to fire back a retort, but she couldn’t argue with the truth- not successfully, anyhow, “Yeah, I guess I would’ve." She didn’t know quite what else to say, so she simply watched Daisy finish the dressing on her arm, smoothing the crease in the bandage with the utmost care.Â
“Just be more careful next time, yeah?” Daisy looked up at Alice as sternly as she could manage, though Alice was hardly convinced, “Be careful with it, and it’ll be careful with you.”Â
Coming from anyone else, Alice would have rolled her eyes; the unspoken need to keep Daisy smiling, though, simply had her nodding, her own grin a rueful one, “Or maybe I just call it a day and leave the plant-whispering to you. Thanks for the, uh,” she held up her bandaged hand, “It’s absolute shit when I do it myself. I owe you one, yeah?” And she would continue to owe Daisy. And even when she truly didn’t Alice knew that she owed it to the both of them to make sure she survived this war, and that the sunshine was never snuffed out.