There is plenty of time left before the bar officially opens, and even though it already looks as if Santa's workshop exploded all over the interior, Flora would immediately assure Ginia that no, she definitely has more decorating to do. In fact, she'd do that right away, but unfortunately, she's busy with three things: one, balancing on a stepping stool, two, fastening a mistletoe to the doorframe leading into the kitchen, and three, singing along loudly, enthusiastically, and with very little regard for the actual lyrics, to Last Christmas.
It isn't that she has always been a holiday person. They are hard to ignore on the streets, it's true, the decorations are everywhere, songs blasting from every shop, the overwhelming sense of loneliness that gnawed on her because there's no family to spend it with, and no friends either. It... didn't much endear her to seasonal things.
And yet, now that she's got a place to call 'home', even if it's a tiny shoebox of a studio and this bar right there... Suddenly, she can't seem to contain her excitement. There's cookies for the rest of the staff in the oven, she's wearing the world's ugliest christmas sweater, and just when she thought things couldn't get better, she turns to spot Ginia. "Can you give me a hand?"
She's really, really struggling with that mistletoe. It just won't stay put.
It's bewildering how many decorations can fit into a single space. Every time Ginia reenters the bar from the kitchen, there's another garland arching across the wall, or ornaments dangling from the ceiling. It's bright and festive and though Ginia looks a bit overwhelmed, a bit of a smile plays on her face.
Holidays were never really her thing. They're an inescapable reminder of what she doesn't have and how much she's lost. She never grudges anyone else for their happiness. Her circumstances are her own. And while things are a bit different now, she wouldn't say her opinion have entirely slid toward the positive either.
But Flora is happy and enjoying herself and Ginia isn't going to say anything that would quash that.
She gamely comes over as Flora asks for help. Careful not to topple Flora from the stool, Ginia cranes her head around the frame to see where the mistletoe is. Effortlessly, she reaches up and holds it in place.
It's a novel thing; standing on the stool, Flora is taller now. Ginia bites back an amused huff at the thought.
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for ginia – seasonal greetings;
It isn't that she has always been a holiday person. They are hard to ignore on the streets, it's true, the decorations are everywhere, songs blasting from every shop, the overwhelming sense of loneliness that gnawed on her because there's no family to spend it with, and no friends either. It... didn't much endear her to seasonal things.
And yet, now that she's got a place to call 'home', even if it's a tiny shoebox of a studio and this bar right there... Suddenly, she can't seem to contain her excitement. There's cookies for the rest of the staff in the oven, she's wearing the world's ugliest christmas sweater, and just when she thought things couldn't get better, she turns to spot Ginia. "Can you give me a hand?"
She's really, really struggling with that mistletoe. It just won't stay put.
no subject
Holidays were never really her thing. They're an inescapable reminder of what she doesn't have and how much she's lost. She never grudges anyone else for their happiness. Her circumstances are her own. And while things are a bit different now, she wouldn't say her opinion have entirely slid toward the positive either.
But Flora is happy and enjoying herself and Ginia isn't going to say anything that would quash that.
She gamely comes over as Flora asks for help. Careful not to topple Flora from the stool, Ginia cranes her head around the frame to see where the mistletoe is. Effortlessly, she reaches up and holds it in place.
It's a novel thing; standing on the stool, Flora is taller now. Ginia bites back an amused huff at the thought.