trampled flowers | [dolly/grant] | Hunger Games: The RPG

trampled flowers | [dolly/grant] Nov 9, 2023 19:53:32 GMT -5

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Post by dars on Nov 9, 2023 19:53:32 GMT -5

Thirty minutes into restless pacing when they were supposed to be studying later, Dolly finally placed a concerned hand on the small of Grant's back. Three days ago, they announced that the students weren't allowed outside of the main building. In roughly less than five seconds after that, people began to realize the heavy implications of that. Some people's talents relied on being outdoors, like Sylan and his bikes, or Lovie and her plants in the greenhouse. Or, in this case in particular, Grant and his horse, Abel, who was stuck in the stables, out of sight and out of reach. The students were all assured that the caretaker, Mr. Charlie, would be changing his daily duties to tending to such talents for the time being, but that obviously did little to stop the worry. They kept promising that if there was no Snow for 24 hours straight, they'd consider reopening the grounds and at least get to work on carving pathways to and from the various secondary locations.

A quick glance out the window was all the confirmation Dolly needed to know that the grounds wouldn't be opening up anytime soon: flurries of snow and wind flew by in a hazy rush to the ground.

"He'll be okay, you know?" If anything, they wouldn't have wanted to be held responsible for the loss of someone's talent. Especially an eighteen year old on the crux of either adoption or adulthood. Either way, if their talents were supposed to be the most important thing to their success beyond, sending Grant out there without his would've been cruel. She didn't say any of that, though. She didn't want to keep his mind on it anymore than she had to, and she also didn't want to invite any sort of conversation about what would happen if one of them was adopted and the other wasn't. The fearsome knot in her throat every time she thought about it was answer enough: she had no way of knowing, and neither did he.

She just hoped that if it did happen, they wouldn't be like the others. Dolly didn't want to end up like Farah, bitter toward the world because of one guy's selfish decisions to stay out of contact once he was free of the Spire. She had more than enough faith in Grant's love for her, but even still, Dolly was becoming aware that perhaps her biggest flaw was her own insecurity. Hanna was the only person other than herself who'd figured it out, and one of the ways she was exploiting Dolly over it most was by flirting with Grant. Every time she thought of how important Grant was to her, she thought of how much it would hurt if she didn't have him anymore, and seeing the way he was around her- oblivious and not bothered- wasn't any more reassuring as it was concerning. It was selfish of her, and possessive, and weird- it made her think awful things about herself sometimes.

How close am I to losing you?

But then she saw him, felt the curves of him hugging against her, heard that infectious laugh and trademark crooked smile. Suddenly it all made sense, every time.

"When's the last time you got an update? Maybe we could go find Mr. Charlie when we're finished here."

trampled flowers | [dolly/grant] Nov 28, 2023 15:41:31 GMT -5

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Post by calla on Nov 28, 2023 15:41:31 GMT -5

The point of the matter is that he can't study like this. And he isn't smart like Dolly. He can't just make himself study like this. He can't throw himself into his books and forget about the world and have it all narrow down to a few lines of text. There's none of that laser focus everyone else always seems to have. But Grant's always been the butt of the brains joke. He's in half a dozen places at once, barely able to breathe. In Moxen's class he had to reread the same sentence at least a dozen times because he kept thinking about the snow, and then about Abel, about Dolly, the biology project due next week, the way the hinge's on his door don't shut quite right.

He worries his thumb against his palm, then runs it across his knuckles, back and forth.

"I don't want to bother Mr. Charlie again." It's not the first time he's said it in the past ten minutes. There's this innate sense of worry in him, invisible behind the facade. The man probably hates Grant now, with all the times he's gone looking for an update, "But, what if…"

He can't even see through the sheet of the window. He keeps pressing his face against the glass anyways, his forehead rests against the cold and his breath fogs across it. It doesn't help. The chill just makes him shiver. He taps his fingers against the pane and then pushes himself off, goes back to pacing.

It's not just his talent. He doesn't see Abel that way. Lovie says it's something about the energies. Grant just knows that some of the only times he can actually think is when he's out there with him.

It's always like this, though. On some level. The snow's just made the whole act of being all the more worse. He can't go out to Abel. He can't avoid Erras. Hanna keeps insisting that Grant be there for her rehearsals even when they're technically supposed to be closed-door. He loves Dolly, but sometimes her steadiness makes his floundering worse. Those are the moments he realizes he's worrying about nothing. Dolly goes about life normally and Grant makes a big deal out of every little thing. Her logic confounds him. He doesn't know she can have a solution for everything.

Grant still loves her. That doesn't change the fact.

He wraps his arms around her, leaning against the back of her chair to rest his chin on her head.

It helps. A bit.

"Let's just think about something else." He sighs.

His speciality - hundreds of scenarios and none of them good.