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Chapter 2 - The First Snow

She smiled quietly as she looked around; the usually crowded room was absolutely deserted. She could still hear the shuffling of the feet as people walked away from her. She was finally alone. She touched the dial, rolling it softly until it stopped on a song that suited her and she began to move along with it while cleaning the table and rearranging things. She twirled graciously and moved a stack of papers from one side to the other so that she could clean a specific spot.

She continued like that, dancing and organizing, humming and cleaning, enjoying the feeling of not having to think about anything at that moment but the mechanic actions she was making. She relaxed a bit more and took off her shoes. She restarted her lone dance, the many years she had taken ballet as a child showing in her perfectly balanced movements. She started to sing along with the song whilst she cleaned the table of its many discarded plates of snacks. She chuckled thinking about the many times she and her mom would cook together in their ruddy old kitchen, the music blasting old classics while the two of them smeared the floor with powdered sugar. She felt her lips curl up in a smile. It always happened when she thought about their "Kitchen Encounters", how her mother liked to call them. They were a cherished part of her childhood memories, one that she knew she could always turn to when in need of something cheerful.

The music changed and she heard Sinatra's voice take over the old radio speakers. She smiled broadly for the leader of the "Rat Pack" tone was trailing in the first notes of one of her father's favorites. She giggled remembering how she used to dance with him, standing on his feet in their clunky living room. She embraced an invisible partner and waltzed with him through the room. As the song died down she did a mock courtesy and let herself fall on one of the many wooden benches. She rested her back against it and bent her knees, moving them softly along with yet another music slowly. She chuckled again as the memory of a conversation she had had with her father over three years ago popped in unceremoniously in her head.

" Dad, what is the Real McCoy?" – She had asked after hearing the expression.

" Love, of course." – Her father had answered within a heartbeat.

" Oh, but how do you know, you know, when it's the real one?" – She continued. Some things were just to abstract for her logical mind to grasp.

"Well, it's easy enough." – Her father had said making sure he was looking her straight in the eye. "- You know it's real when you know that person would do anything to make you happy. And vice-versa."

"That's it?" – It seemed rather simple for her.

"If you have that, honey, than you're all set."


-- XXX -- XXX -- XXX --


He was running carelessly. His muscles flexed, his breathing was steady and his hair was as unruly as ever. Even though he wasn't in a hurry his run had a decided step. He was like that sometimes, impulsive, he might say. Reckless, others would. But in truth he was neither, for his movements were calculated. One could easily tell he was used to the exercise for he had impressive speed and hadn't even started to break sweat. A grin broke into his handsome face as he envisioned his target and if anyone could have seen him would have mistakenly thought he had just won a dandy prize. He stopped dead in his tracks, so abruptly that everything around him seemed to keep moving.

He walked into the room looking for his friend but instead his eyes met a surreal scene. She was there. Dancing. Alone. He thanked the heavens she couldn't see him for it felt like he was intruding in something very private. She swayed with the music and his jaws dropped in sheer wonder. It was perfection; her beautiful hair was tied loosely in a messy bun that seemed to go against the laws of physics, her green eyes sparkled in amusement. He was suddenly frozen to the spot. Watching her was like witnessing the first snowfall; there was a magical quality to it that just lifted your spirit.

He let his back rest against the nearest wall, his primary goal completely forgotten as he listened to her sing along and let out an elated chuckle, like there was something obviously entertaining right in front of her. She moved graciously and he found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from her elegant figure. It was mesmerizing. The song changed and he saw her giggle and accept the hand of an invisible partner. She waltzed freely across the room, thoroughly enjoying herself. He had never seen her like this; so free and relaxed, it was alluring to say the least. He told himself to take deep, calming breaths and tried to remain as still as possible.

She did a mock courtesy and he couldn't help but chuckle. Boy, he loved her. He loved the way she could always surprise him and that every time he looked he found something new and intriguing. She had the temper of an atomic bomb, the kindness of the innocent and the ingenuity of children. He smiled at the many contractions, because he knew he wouldn't like her to be any different. He watched as she rested her back onto the long bench directly in front of him. She still moved her knees softly and he noticed that it was a different song now. He could see she was thinking and he wished he could spy inside her mind, but he knew he wouldn't, even if he could.


-- XXX -- XXX -- XXX --


She opened her eyes wishing the day were ending instead of beginning. She would settle for just a few more hours of sleep, so she groaned when she realized she couldn't even have that. She dragged her body out of bed and wallowed in self-pity, as she got ready for yet another day of learning. Another uneventful morning with no one around to annoy her. She followed her friends throughout the corridors and pretended to listen to their joyful morning remarks.

As they entered the packed room, the very same one that had been hers, and hers alone, the night before, a furtive laugh leaves her lips. Snow is pouring softly from the ceiling giving the room a dreamlike quality and she feels like a toddler again. She scans the room and her eyes lock with his. It has been a while since that has happened. She smiles and he smiles back and, as soon as the moment is over, he turns his warm hazel eyes from her and throws a perfectly shaped snowball into one of his friends, letting out a delighted laugh seeing he had hit his mark. She went to sit and ate her breakfast. A fluttering feeling hanging on to her the entire day. As did the memory of soft smiling hazel eyes.


-- XXX -- XXX -- XXX --


She had left the room and it had become absolutely freezing without her presence. He let out a sigh, praying for his brain to keep that memory untouched for him. He wanted to keep that image of her so pure and beautiful, like the first snow. His eyes sparked with a mischievous thought and he decided that something so unbelievably perfect should have a monument in its favor. Even a fleeting one. An unspoken homage or maybe even just an acknowledgement that someone was watching and knew that the simple quiet things were plainly the most special ones. Then he concentrated on his mission. He smiled, satisfied, when a snowflake landed on his shoulder.