Violet sat at the bench, back arched and aching from hours spent in the same position. Brow crinkled, eyes closed, all the pent-up energy that had accumulated over the day poured into her fingers as they flew over the keys. Her body swayed back and forth to the rhythm being pulled out of her hands. She was a woman possessed. This was her escape, her release from going through the day making mindless conversation about boys and parties, sitting in class pretending to think about proofs and derivatives, standing at work making coffee and flashing feeble smiles. This was her only time for herself, the only time where she could completely let go and be herself, unaffected by the expectations and obligations of the world outside. It was just her and Chopin, old friends in a dance felt down to the bone.
BRIINNGGG
The shrill ringtone pierced through her reverie as her right hand fumbled and broke the melody, distracted by the outside world once again. Sighing, she pulled her hands away, fingers dragging over her face, feeling antsy to get back to their unresolved dance. She leaned over and grabbed her phone from the top of the old piano, pressed answer and put it to her ear.
"Hello?" She says tiredly into the phone.
"Hey! It's almost 9, I was thinking we could get ready at your place? I really want to borrow your black dress with the lace cut-out in the back. Should I come over now?" It was her friend Molly on the other line, referencing their standing Friday night plans.
"I'm not home yet, but yeah, I can meet you there in like 10," Violet said, stretching her back as she got up and gathered her music in one hand to shove into her backpack.
"Ugh, you're still on campus? I swear to god, Vi, you spend more time in that building than anywhere else," her friend admonished over the line. "But yeah, see you soon."
Greeted with the dial tone, she clicked off her phone, put it into the front pouch of her backpack, and slung it over her shoulder. She left the cramped practice room, clomped down the stairs, and emerged from the Music Building into the misty April evening.
She had the hood of her jacket pulled up and her head bowed against the rain, gaze following her feet as they tracked the familiar path to her apartment. Rain broke through the cracks in the makeshift evergreen roof lone path cutting through the campus, and it drilled down on her head. As she was just about reach the edge of campus and turn onto her street she smacked harshly into a solid mass. The force pushed her backwards and she caught herself from slipping onto the wet concrete. A flutter of white filled the air around her as numerous papers flew into the air and sailed to the ground.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" she said, and looked up at what - or, rather, who - she had just crashed into. Her victim was bent over, hurriedly snatching the papers from the rain-soaked walk, so she bent down to help him gather them. She picked up the last paper and flipped it over to see if the rain had done much damage. The water had smudged the charcoal a little, but the drawing of the bird was still visible, it's beak open in a razor sharp call and its wings beating a blur, trapped in perpetual flight. Just as she registered the drawing into her mind, however, it was suddenly ripped out of her hand. Her eyes snapped up.
He hadn't thought to put the hood of his rain jacket up, or hadn't cared, and his blonde hair was plastered to his head. The strands trailed wet lines down his cheeks and there were a few droplets struck in his eyelashes. Lashes framing eyes so dark they were black. And glaring at her. He added her pile of papers it to his, tucking them under his arm quickly, defensively.
"Those are really good," she said earnestly. He didn't reply, but just kept staring right at her with hard black eyes. His mouth was pulled into a frown.
"Uh, well I guess I'll start looking where I'm going now," Violet gave an awkward little laugh, unsure of how to deal with this disconcerting and hostile stranger standing in front of her. She took a few tentative steps backward and started to walk around him. His eyes followed her as she rushed past him and onto the sidewalk of the street that outlined the campus. As her steps took her further and further away from the bizarre encounter, she shook her head, trying to force the flush off her cheeks and clear the image of that intense dark glare out of her mind. Yet as she reached her building and fumbled to fit the key into the door, all she could think about were eyes black as pitch.