Life studies are a natural part of an artists life. Especially if you wanted to be an artist of any sense of realism. So the announcement of the life model week was actually a welcomed thing.

Because if Francis was a flirt, he was a serious artist in equal part.

It would be his third time doing a life study but the first time at college. His English major room mate from London was not excited. The grumpy looking man had just looked up from his computer gave him a look, and muttered something under his breath.

Now, most people would assume that the notorious flirt wanted to simply see people naked.

But really they were wrong.

The human form, in it's various earthly varieties, was simply amazing. How it moved, how shadow played on it, but naked or not, this could be appreciated. For every life study he did, he not only felt closer to his goal of being a famous artist, but also closer to what it means to appreciate life.

On the day that the life study would start he was early. Laid out his area and prepared his supplies. Slowly his classmates filtered in, some complaining about having to draw naked people. Some people afraid to draw naked men or fat people...

Ah such simple closed thinking. He hides his frown.

He doesn't care, because the model is alive. And perhaps that was the greatest beauty of all.

The blinds go down, the pieces of paper over the door and the teacher tells them to take their places. She explains the process, how it'll be warm ups, then more advanced and then will end with two 30 minute drawings. She warns to keep any commentary to themselves and the model walks in. She's covered in a robe and takes instruction from the teacher.

The robe is dropped and the lamp turned on. Around him he hears a few gasps. But the sounds of marks on paper surround him and he continues to stare. On some level of his mind he realizes if someone caught him staring like this it would perhaps be because the model has a large chest. Easily the most noticeable feature.

She had a kind face, she was blushing faintly and yet sat confidently. A sheet was laid across her legs, but still exposing everything above the knees. Her eyes, deep and seemed to shimmer.

She smiles when the teacher says something, he didn't even really hear it.

During the first break he makes for the bathroom, and splashes his face. Men in the stalls and along the urinals are talking about her. Nothing all that flattering. But he knows at least one woman in the class is as well a bathroom over. One did not lay eyes on her, and not talk.

Such...a person must be spoken of. But they didn't want to talk about the things that he wanted to talk about. So he left. Unwilling to listen to the same drivel.

He goes to get a drink from the vending machine in the lobby, to his surprise, she's there. She's wearing the over sized fluffy robe. She bends over and picks up a bottle of orange juice and spots him. She smiles at him.

"Hello..."

He can't say anything. So he nods and gets his drink and walks away. Screaming in his head the whole time.

He does draw, it gets easier to see her in pieces and it only details the whole person. She has a mole on her hip and her hands... he wonders what she does for a living, her fingers seem rough. He wonders what that fades scar is...what that tattoo is, he can't see it from his spot.

Tomorrow they will have a different model. She probably won't come back, he would remember her face if she went to classes here. He might not see her again.

Well that is a horrible, horrible thought. Ugly.

He doesn't want to humor it. He wants to...know her. Talk to her. Something.

Well, if she wanted to. Be friends. Be anything. As far as she's concerned he's just a man that has been staring at her nude form for over two hours now. Not the best impression at all. This could be horrible.

The class ends and students pack up. Turn in their collections and loudly exit. She talks to the teacher, they are smiling and talking. Do they know each other?

"Just like you used to be Katyusha !"

"Oh Erzsébet, it's been too long."

So they do know each other.

"How is Feliks?"

The woman, Katyusha her name is very lovely pouts and frowns.

"A noisy neighbor...but I suppose that's just like the way things used to be as well."

They laugh, a joke that he was not privy to. His teacher spots him lounging about.

"Ah, Francis! Kat, this is the one I was telling you about. My best student, I take all the credit that his natural skills and practice and education doesn't."

She takes him in. A flicker of recognition. A smile. That sweet smile. It reaches her eyes so easily and there is that sparkle, shimmer. Loveliness.

"Come on you two, I'm hungry and I've been imagining that stew in the cafeteria all day!"

And that's how he ends up eating a early dinner with his teacher and Katyusha.

He finds out a little about her past. That she grew up with her little siblings on a farm, moved to this town and works at a bakery. She has a lovely laugh and they like a few of the same books.

Erzsébet, Katyusha and a boy named Feliks grew up in the same small town. Apparently causing trouble.

He shared about himself when asked. He tried to keep his eagerness in check.

Things went well.

When his teacher leaves the two of them outside the cafeteria they mull around. He decides to bite the bullet.

"Katyusha, if...could I perhaps have the honor of taking you on a date?"

She's surprised.

"Are...," she sighs "Are you sure that would be appropriate..."

He imagined this happening.

"Because...of how we met?"

She nods not looking him directly in the eyes.

"I can assure that I don't wish to spend time with you because I have seen you nude...or want to again. Perhaps," he pauses "the best way to explain is that I saw the way your eyes shimmer when you smile and I'd like to see that again." He pauses a moment, to let this hang in the air between them. Unsure if anything he could say would change her mind. "But if you don't like the idea of..ah, well, seeing me...I understand. However if, you should change your mind my offer will remain open indefinitely." He hands her a piece of paper with his phone number on it.

"Regardless, it was lovely to share this time with you Katyusha, thank you." And this he means with his whole being. For to have spent the little time was a blessing to him.

He would not push it, even if his heart would suffer for such a loss.

His phone rings a week later. He doesn't know the number on the screen and he cautiously clicks answer. When he hears the voice on the other end, he can't remember being this happy.