Bronze Medal~
Title: Never Trust The Dictionary
Prompt: French Silk 5: occupe-toi de tes oignons/mind your own business. Literally, tend to your own onions.
Rating: G
Word Count: 452
Story: ROTOS
Summary: Syeira’s going to… grow onions? Basically she does something kind of derpy. Bronze medal for the RaTsers of the Caribbean!
“I need a plot of land and some onion seeds.”
That sentence was more than enough to confuse Damon, but he went along with her plan and followed her to Haymarket after practice that day. He couldn’t think of a reason why she would need to grow onions, or even where she could grow them, but he stood off to the side and kept his hands in the pockets of his jeans while she went around to the different vegetable stands probably asking them if they had spare onion seeds or if they knew where to get some.
He’d never really seen Syeira as a gardening sort of person. He knew she was a dancer, and he knew that she liked to sew. But gardening? Gardening? She’d never once mentioned even being interested in it. But then, there were probably a lot of things about herself that she’d never told him before. Should he really be surprised?
He was pulled away from his thoughts when he saw Syeira approach him with a little bag of seeds in her hand. “Found some! Now we just have to find a place to plant them.”
He smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they left the marketplace. “Why the sudden interest in growing your own onions? You don’t like the taste of the ones at the supermarket?” He shrugged. She was sure to have her own tastes, wasn’t she?
“No, that’s not it…” She scuffed her heel against the sidewalk. “During stretches the other day, Arianna was telling the rest of the girls a story… something had happened, but I didn’t know what.” She tossed the bad of seeds from one hand to the other. “I got curious and asked her what she was talking about, and she gave me a look and said something to me in French. And when I went to go look it up, it said it meant, ‘Look after your own onions.’ So…” She held up the bag again. “So I am going to look after my own onions.”
It was all Damon could do to keep himself from doubling over in laughter. “She didn’t really mean to look after your onions, silly. She was just telling you to mind your own business. That’s all.” He bit down on his lip, letting out a few breaths to try and keep himself from laughing out loud. He’d laugh when he got home. Not in front of her.
“…Oh.” The way she said it was enough of a sign of her disappointment. But then there was silence, and she finally asked, “Damon, how come I’m so stupid?”
He smiled. “You’re not stupid, Sweetling. You just have a lot to learn.”
Prompt: French Silk 5: occupe-toi de tes oignons/mind your own business. Literally, tend to your own onions.
Rating: G
Word Count: 452
Story: ROTOS
Summary: Syeira’s going to… grow onions? Basically she does something kind of derpy. Bronze medal for the RaTsers of the Caribbean!
“I need a plot of land and some onion seeds.”
That sentence was more than enough to confuse Damon, but he went along with her plan and followed her to Haymarket after practice that day. He couldn’t think of a reason why she would need to grow onions, or even where she could grow them, but he stood off to the side and kept his hands in the pockets of his jeans while she went around to the different vegetable stands probably asking them if they had spare onion seeds or if they knew where to get some.
He’d never really seen Syeira as a gardening sort of person. He knew she was a dancer, and he knew that she liked to sew. But gardening? Gardening? She’d never once mentioned even being interested in it. But then, there were probably a lot of things about herself that she’d never told him before. Should he really be surprised?
He was pulled away from his thoughts when he saw Syeira approach him with a little bag of seeds in her hand. “Found some! Now we just have to find a place to plant them.”
He smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they left the marketplace. “Why the sudden interest in growing your own onions? You don’t like the taste of the ones at the supermarket?” He shrugged. She was sure to have her own tastes, wasn’t she?
“No, that’s not it…” She scuffed her heel against the sidewalk. “During stretches the other day, Arianna was telling the rest of the girls a story… something had happened, but I didn’t know what.” She tossed the bad of seeds from one hand to the other. “I got curious and asked her what she was talking about, and she gave me a look and said something to me in French. And when I went to go look it up, it said it meant, ‘Look after your own onions.’ So…” She held up the bag again. “So I am going to look after my own onions.”
It was all Damon could do to keep himself from doubling over in laughter. “She didn’t really mean to look after your onions, silly. She was just telling you to mind your own business. That’s all.” He bit down on his lip, letting out a few breaths to try and keep himself from laughing out loud. He’d laugh when he got home. Not in front of her.
“…Oh.” The way she said it was enough of a sign of her disappointment. But then there was silence, and she finally asked, “Damon, how come I’m so stupid?”
He smiled. “You’re not stupid, Sweetling. You just have a lot to learn.”