"You sure you don't want to come with us, Bri?" Brianna paused as she pulled her old wool hat over her thick black curls, and turned to smile at her coworkers. She hoped they didn't notice how her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Ah, I've got plans, but thank you!" She grabbed her basket and hurried out the door with a wave before her stomach could growl and give away the truth.
Brianna Robin would have loved nothing more than to go get food with the other girls. It had been a long day at the flower shop and she hadn't had much more than breakroom coffee to fortify herself. But there was no way she could afford whatever restaurant they were going to— not with the recent cold snap. The house that her parents had left her when they died was lovely, but its insulation was severely lacking and the heater went through oil faster than she could afford.
She slowed her pace once she was out of view of the shop— she really wasn't in any hurry to find her way back to that empty house and its bare pantry. It used to be the center of her world, but these days it just reminded her of the hole that had been ripped in her heart.
It wasn't even six, but the sun had already sunk below the horizon. For once the Seattle sky was clear of its perpetual ceiling of flat—grey clouds, but that only meant that the temperature had the chance to drop even further. She shivered in her ratty peacoat and pulled it closer. If it was going to be clear she might as well spend some time stargazing.
Maybe it would take her mind off the yawning hollow that was her stomach. She just needed to make it to tomorrow— when she would finally have a chance to visit the food bank and get some groceries.
She caught a view of herself in a darkened window. Small and slight, and in mismatched clothes over a basic black and green dress, she looked like someone who the world had forgotten. But her blue eyes were still bright, and wrapped up as she was against the cold she looked like something fae, sharp cheekbones and chin contrasting with the uncontrollable tangle of her curves.
Instead of heading home she nodded to reflection and turned on her heel towards Volunteer Park. It wasn't that far out of her way, and climbing the water tower would provide an excellent view of the sky. And, she thought as she smiled down at her basket full of old roses, she'd have a chance to feed the bunnies.
Little known fact about bunnies, they love roses. They eat every part of the plant, from the branches and the bark to the leaves and the petals— although given their height and their thorns it isn't common for wild bunnies to get access to the flowers.
But working at a flower shop meant that it wasn't hard for Brianna to get access to old roses, no matter the season, and she had always had a special place in her heart for the rabbits that ran wild through the green spaces of Seattle. The eastern cottontails, small light—browned bunnies with a burst of white on the underside of their tails, weren't a native species to the area— but instead had been introduced in the 19th century to be hunted for food and sport.
Since then they had adjusted to the urban environment quite well, moving from garden to grassy park and back again— reproducing more in the years with mild winters and, well, surviving as best they could in winters like this one. Gardners hated them, as they had a propensity to dig up and eat any young plants they could get their little teeth on.
To be honest, she probably shouldn't be feeding an invasive species like this, but she was familiar enough with hunger that she couldn't bear to let the things go without when she could help. And she loved the rabbits like she loved the crows around her home— they were cute little creatures that did their best to survive no matter how troublesome everyone else seemed to think they were.
It reminded her a lot of her own life.
"If I could eat roses, I would too," she whispered to the small rabbit that she had managed to coax from the bushes and into her pile of roses. She thought she could see the gleaming eyes of other wild ones hiding behind the heavy leaves and didn't dare raise her voice and drive them off. "But they're only good as jam or candied, and it's not like I have sugar to spare."
Although if she didn't make the food bank tomorrow, she might try anyways.
She leaned back on her heels and stared up at the night sky. The moon seemed to smile back down at her among the glittering diamonds of the stars. It was a crescent, too thin to see the shape of the bunny that graced its own surface, but beautifully clear so far above her. It felt comforting, like an old friend among the darkness of the night.
It had been more than a year since her parents' accident, but she still wasn't used to making it on her own. Things would have been better if their deaths hadn't happened so quickly, or been so expensive.
As it was, Brianna was left at 18 without any savings or support— nothing but a rickety old home that was too entwined with memories to sell and a lifetime of stories that she wished she could forget. Her dreams of college and success had fallen to the mundane nature of simply surviving as best she could. Not to mention dating! Not that she wanted to date, necessarily. She was logical enough to know that she would have been much better left had she only been able to let her parents go— if she had been able to bring herself to sell the house that she had been raised in she wouldn't be starving like she was.
No, loving someone else simply came with pain. It definitely wasn't worth it.
But as she made that promise to the clouds a snippet of music caught her attention. She got to her feet, shaking the dirt from her dress, and wandered over around the hedge where she had left her basket. From where she stood, it looked as if the entire space in front of the art museum had been turned into a festival— with music and people talking, eating, and drinking as they mingled through the crowd.
She wasn't planning on crashing— she really wasn't— but as got closer she realized this wasn't some sort of fancy fundraiser for the park. No— it was filled with people her own age, relaxed and enjoying themselves. Living the kind of life she would have been living if it wasn't for the death of her family. How was it fair that they got to live without any worries, while she didn't?
Anger warmed her as her stomach reminded her that it had been days since she had had a proper meal. She used that anger, and dropped her ratty coat and hat under a concrete bench near the lily pond before heading towards the bright lights with her head held high.
