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The faint, incessant buzz of insects and the chirping of birds fills the still, warm air. It is a constant, if insignificant, source of sound to keep Lissa company as she carries out the important task ahead of her. She plunges her trowel into the dirt, removing what she can, and repeats the process until, eventually, the hole is deep enough for her purposes. She then places one of many a precious garden plant pansy in the ground, buries it snugly, and gives it a bit of water, then moves onto the next. The inconsistent scraping of metal on earth is the only thing to break up the backing track of nature. The process is all rote, interrupted only when a stray root, rock, or some other unwanted object gets in her way, but the young woman is enjoying herself all the same. This goes on for some time, as the sun climbs high into the sky, gazing down upon the world with its unbiased and unwavering light, the heat of the day rising with it.
"Ugh, no clouds, and not even a breeze." Lissa lets out an exasperated huff. "Of course! That's just my luck!" There's a song-like quality to the way she says it, as if she wished to hide her frustration from imaginary onlookers. "Well, I just have to finish, and then I can get out of these," she pauses, considering herself for a moment. "ugh, dirty everything, really."
She wipes the sweat from her brow with her forearm, a bit of grime making its way deftly onto her face, despite her best efforts to avoid precisely that. Just then, she hears the door open, followed by the rattling of ice and liquid in a glass, and then by the door closing. Lissa stops what she was doing, leaving the trowel embedded in the dirt in a half-finished pansy hole, and turns to see her lovely girlfriend - no, wife gosh, that's still hard to get used to. It barely seems real - offering her a sandwich and a glass of…?
"Wait, Maribelle, is that lemonade?" her question is sudden, her mouth left slightly agape as she bounds over and examines the drink just a bit too closely.
The slightest hint of irritation enters the other woman's expression for just a moment, then vanishes as suddenly as it appeared. "Why, yes, it is, Darling." Her voice is sugar sweet, hopefully hiding her last lingering ounce of annoyance. It's just a bit too sweet, Lissa thinks. "I made it because you enjoyed it when we were children, and you've always had a soft spot for citrusy beverages."
Lissa blinks in surprise. "How do you, like" she frowns, gesticulating wildly while searching for the right words, "just, know so much about me, I guess? You seem to remember everything we've ever done together. I mean, even stuff I don't remember and things I don't ever think about."
Though she does her best to keep her face a stony façade of neutrality, Maribelle's eyes sparkle with amusement, clearly pleased to be affirmed in this way. "Well," she begins, speaking matter-of-factly, "If I didn't know that much, how could I have hoped to sweep the lovely princess off of her feet before somebody else swooped in and ferried her away?" She laughs, small but genuine, covering her mouth with a hand. "In any case, darling, why don't you take a break and have some lunch. I'll help you to dig your holes while you do, and then we can finish this project up for the day."
"But," Lissa protests, an unfinished bite of the sandwich still in her mouth as she hurriedly interrupts Maribelle's plans. "The pansies were my idea, so you shouldn't have to plant them. Or at least, I should be working on it at the same time. I'll just get the shovel, and--" Maribelle cuts her off before she can say anything else.
"First, it's called a trowel, darling. Second, we only have one, and it is forecast to rain soon, so we should get your flowers planted before then." She smiles knowingly at the as of yet unconvinced Lissa. "And third, I was only planning on digging the holes. You can tuck them in and water them yourself."