An amorphous blue figure swirls about, dancing against a dark space behind her eyelids. The corner of her mouth curls a tick as she watches it dance. Eyes closed she pulls in a satisfyingly deep breath, holds it a moment, then two, before her chest falls slowly and she feels lighter. 

The senses begin to filter in, as if she had  opened a door to a familiar place. She steps through the threshold and feels herself grounded again. 

The scratching sounds of pencils active upon paper fill the space. Then a musty smell of wood and charcoal and paint linger with every breath, she's back. Suddenly feeling the hard stool beneath her, her feet planted firmly against the concrete floor. The smooth crisp feeling of her paper, the pencil active in her own hand.

When she opens her eyes the amorphous dancing finger is swiped upwards and she's now staring at her attempt at the still-life example in the center of the classroom. Her hands move easily over the paper, with carefree and graceful movements as she adds a line here, a curve beside, and a smudge for shadow. The classroom is full and the teacher walks behind, gently assessing and guiding her students with small critiques. 

The lighting is dim but not dark, making the space feel surreal and full of magic. Little bits of artistic dust float freely in the rays of sun that peak through the window coverings. The other students around her work quietly choosing their own lines carefully. 

A prickling at the nape of her neck sends her baby hairs rising with her bumping flesh, something’s different. Not a physical touch or inner change, but a warmth that heats ever-so-slightly and radiates upwards, brushing her exposed shoulder and tingling up the side of her neck. She feels the heat of blood rushing to her cheeks, the burning blush of being watched by someone. Her heart begins to flutter and it leaps in her chest, she knows this feeling. 

A timer rings and suddenly the room is filled with activity. Stools scrape, zippers are being opened, a pencil falls somewhere and rolls across the floor. She begins moving herself, her phone in hand, her sandals sliding across the grainy art room floor as she heads for the door. The ten minute break sends her just beyond the classroom walls. Where she sits beside a vast window. The morning sun shining down upon her. 

The surrounding space is filled with student art on display. Locked away in a wall of display cases or hanging from the ceiling. Her face is in her phone but her awareness is elsewhere. The prickling of her cheeks begin the moment he walks from the room. Her skin feels the warmth of his brief and gentle gaze. She doesn’t look up but knows exactly where he is, standing before the art display. With his attention fixed on something within she looks up and watches his fixation. 

The light dances around his exposed arms, casting shadows in places his muscles eclipse. She finds herself studying his movements and smiles at the way he lingers near. The light blue shirt he wears today suits him and she feels the heat inside rush forth and her heart leaps again.

She manages to return her gaze to her phone before he spins around and asks aloud:

“Have you seen these penguins?” 

He's nervous on the surface, she can tell by the overly casual way he speaks and the quick gesture he makes towards the display. As he looks back to her, a hopeful smile spreads across his face. 

She looks up at the odd question. “What?” Is all she can manage in those first moments of anticipated conversation.

Her eyes are instantly struck by his gaze from across the room, connecting for the very first time. They are blue, his shirt making them brighter, addictively alluring, and innocently hopeful. She knew that was the last moment she ever belonged to herself. That was the moment she knew she would one day let this person into her heart and once there, no matter the distance, time or trials ahead. There he would forever remain, irreversibly a part of her. 

When she blinks, the swirling blue figure dances again behind her closed eyelids. She watches it dance. Taking in another deep breath of contentment, her body settles and relaxes as she begins to feel the tile beneath her bare feet again. The sound of distant clattering in a room beyond fills her senses. 

Home… she thought, and her heart smiled within. When she opened her eyes again she found herself staring into a mirror. The face looking back at her had taken on many years, but she still felt the heart of that child within, fluttering about and leaping with joy. She felt it more present now having been stirred by the memory. 

Turning from the mirror she walked down the hallway. “Hey babe?” She called as she entered the living room.

His forehead scrunched as he looked up from a pile of tangled cords. Some of which now lay aside as he makes his way through the bundle. 

“Do you remember the penguins?” She said smiling, the memory now restored, and her heart leaped again.

His face began to soften, frustration easing. His bright blue eyes began to shine once again, and he smiled back.