itchin' on a photograph

The wind whipped Sophia Carver’s blonde hair into her face while she was walking through the rows of strawberry plants. She had spent all morning at the dance studio and was desperate to get some fresh air. She had only stopped by her cabin to change into something less sweaty. She didn’t know why she had chosen to go somewhere so out of the way, after all her legs and feet were still sore from hours of dancing. Hey, at least there was food. Sophie plucked a large strawberry off a plant as she walked, trying to remember the last time she had a proper meal. Dry cereal and protein bars didn’t really sustain a person. As she came to the end of the row, it suddenly occurred to her that there was someone there. A guy was planting bright purple flowers. She stopped walking about five feet away from him and watched him as he handled the flowers that were still in those plastic cartons. Why someone would plant flowers in a strawberry field, Sophie had no idea. She pushed aside another strand of hair the wind had blown in her face, moving a little closer to the gardener. “I don’t think those are strawberries.” She commented, a grin playing on her face. “but I’m not really an expert in botany.”
OOC:There is a lack of gifs so for now I'm gonna use pictures

Sophie accepted the flowers with a small laugh, “What a gentleman, you are.” Sophia twirled one of the flowers between her fingers. Staring at the bright purple petals. The boy introduced himself, and Sophia looked up from the flowers. James. The name sounded familiar in a way. Sort of like Déjà vu. Although she was pretty sure she’d remember meeting someone like him. Sophie shifted her weight to the other foot before saying, “My name’s Sophia. Although everyone calls me Sophie.” The blonde girl nodded towards the flowers, “They’re pretty, the asters. I’ve never heard of them before. I’m guessing you’re pretty skilled with flowers.” She’d guess demeter. Most of the people that came out to the fields were kids of demeter or dionysus. Although she wouldn’t rule out aphrodite. The guy had a nice jawline. God, even thinking it made her blush. Luckily another breeze blew a chunk of hair into her face, hopefully allowing her cheeks to recover.

Sophia smiled and nodded, “There’s no denying that.” Wait. Flirting. She was flirting. The funny thing is that Sophie didn’t see that coming. She wasn’t a flirter. She was a “i don’t have time for romance unless it’s for ballet.” She was in a serious relationship with dancing. They were very committed to each other. She’s expecting to announce their engagement soon. In all seriousness, dancing was like being in a relationship. It requires patience, full commitment and isn’t complete without pain. So much pain.  
What was she talking about again? Oh, yeah, the flirting. Well, let’s just say Sophie looked confused after she subconsciously flirted with James.
James’ comment about the asters piqued Sophia’s interest. “You never know,” She said, “maybe they do. People think that we’re myths. Maybe this little flower scares off monsters and the like.”

OOC: Sorry this is short.

Great going, Sophie, you just made him uncomfortable. Now you've got to fix it. Of course the big question is: Was he uncomfortable because she was flirting in general, or because she was terrible at it? Because if she was terrible at talking to boys, that would explain why all the guys in her dance class refused to look her in the eye. Of course there could be other explanations for that part. But she really hoped there wasn't. Well she'd think about that later. It was time to get back to what was actually happening.
Sophie smiled as non-flirty as she could. Is that a word, non-flirty? Whatever. "No. Nowhere to be. Nothing to do. If you want I can help." The kiwi nodded to the flowers that still were in their containers. "I can't say I'm good at gardening, but I probably can't mess it up too much, can I?" Is there a wrong way to plant flowers? If you put them in the ground wrong, can you kill them? You know what, she'd give it a fair try. It can't be as hard as ballet. People think it's all smiles and fun twirling. But anyone who's taken an advanced dance class can tell you; it's like joining the army. You've got to do everything absolutely perfect or get yelled at. All the while trying to smile even though your feet feel like they're being torn off.
Sophie loved it.

The minute Sophie offered to help garden, she could see the stress on James’ face rise. So, not wanting to give the boy any more stress, Sophie just sat down and watched him shovel dirt. Normally, Sophie wouldn’t have any interest in the displacement of dirt. But she didn’t get up. Sitting was better than standing, and her muscles thanked her for the rest.
“So,” Sophie started, unable to bear the silence any longer. Talking made her comfortable. Awkward silences were one of her worst nightmares as a child. Not literally. She was actually really scared of sharks for some reason. “That accent. It’s british, correct?”
Oh accents. People always thought Sophie was Australian. But alas, she was not bound under the rule of Tony Abbott. Or more affectionately known as the Prime Sinister of Australia. Sophie was a kiwi. A new zealander, not the bird or the fruit.

OOC: Look at the shortness.

Sophia tried not to laugh when the shovel thing flew out of James’ hand. She still hadn’t done anything to embarrass herself yet, but it was surely coming. She’d say the wrong thing, and then he’d be gone. You see, Sophie wasn’t good at making friends. Well, she was, but they weren’t the kindest or sweetest people. One might criticize Sophie for the company she keeps. Her father used to do it all the time. Of course he did approve of Magda who turned out to be a backstabbing no-good liar. But that’s a whole other story. Then there was Mary, who was nice to her face, but Sophie was pretty sure that girl was planning her death. So, yeah, maybe Sophie wasn’t the best judge of character, but James seemed harmless enough.

“Cardiff sounds nice” Sophie commented, handing the shovel back to James. “I’m from Wellington, New Zealand.” She was ready for the usual responses. "Did you grow up on the beach?" Yes she did. "Is that where they filmed Lord of the Rings?” Yes. “Aren’t there a lot of sheep there?” Yeah. She usually didn’t mind the questions, after all, when she first arrived she expected everyone to be brash and rude. In fact everyone was really nice. Actually, they were so nice there were a couple times Sophie wondered if they were being genuine. So, lesson of the day: don’t always believe the stereotypes. Then again, most of the stereotypes for New Zealand were true.  What was the point of this again?