FFXIV Write: 14 – Attrition
noun
http://www.dictionary.com
a wearing down or weakening of resistance, especially as a result of continuous pressure or harassment
An embarrassingly huge display of wild orchids hued in crimson and pearl stood in a vase, dappled by the summer sunlight as a light breeze tousled their petals. They waited to be collected, sweetly fragrant amidst the bustle and hustle of the Bismarck during the lunch rush.
“Katja!” one of the cooks called again, “Come get these things out of here!”
Blinking, one of the waitresses stopped in her work mid-stride, looking over to where she’d been called. Wandering over, she looked over the bouquet with a quizzical countenance. “What do you want me to do with them? Some customer leave ‘em? Should I put them in the trash?”
The cook gave her a droll look. “They’re for you, dummy.”
Katja was gob-smacked. “A-wha…?” She looked between the flowers and the cook. Surely she’d heard wrong. Who would send her flowers? Granted, they were pretty flowers and part of her strongly debated if she could take a cutting of them to plant in mother’s garden… but who would be so stupid? She never made any inclination that she liked flowers. Never even told anyone what her favorite flowers even were — Doman Bleeding Hearts.
They were rare and hard to find outside of the East. She only knew about them because she’d been working for the Botanist’s Guild at the time, transplanting their seedling bundles into proper soil for growing. She’d seen the plant being tended by one of the gardeners as it was intended as a gift for the Sultana of Ul’dah for her own garden. A gift of friendship from Gridania.
Katja had marveled at the unique chain of heart-shaped blooms, having never seen their like. She hadn’t seen anything like them since and the Little Gardener in her had fallen in love with them. She never saw them again after that, though, so they were always a secret longing in her heart.
“Katja!” The cook called over testily. “Flowers! Get rid of ‘em, they’re in the middle of the expediting counter!”
“R-Right!” She exclaimed, scurrying over to pick up the vase of orchids. For a moment, she took the time to savor the honey-sweet aroma of the blooms as she carried them around the back of the Bismarck. A sigh escaped her. She’d have no time to take them home; she’d scheduled far too many shifts today to be able to do so. After her shift here, it was straight down to Fisherman’s Bottom to help the Fisher’s Guild with a large order of Lominsan Anchovies — ironically, also for the Bismarck.
Admiring the red and white blooms one final time, she dropped them into the refuse bin behind the restaurant. Again, the cook hollered for her; there were customers to serve and she had a job to do. She shook her head and took off running as the maitre’d sat another table down for serving. There was no time to think of anything else.
D’fhul sighed to himself as he watched Katja throw the flowers into the garbage. His ears tilted back on his head and he grimaced a little at the thought of all that gil wasted. Orchids weren’t exactly easy to come by in Limsa. Still, she’d seen her smile a little as she inhaled their fragrance, so that was something. He’d endear himself to her slowly, by ilms if he had to. This was a battle of attrition, eroding away at her indifference, her obliviousness. At some point, she’d notice him.
Or so he hoped.