thought

a tired grin, eyes shifting across the pattern in the white tiles. symmetry was so pleasing. always had been. feet, dark shoes across the white floor. black. stark. beautiful. a breath. she rubbed her shoulder a little unconsciously, thinking. always thinking these days. always music playing somewhere. she looked up from the floor as she walked to face the oncoming tide of students. now pretending to be a ship, shouldering past a current. i have sails. i smell the sea. yes music. the roar of water. a long draw of air. perfect. imagined wings swept by her. the grin faded to a half-crescent hidden smile.
then.
a form in her line of vision. her eyes snapped up as though magnetically. thought whisped away. and there he stood. leaning nonchalantly against a white wall. black hair. clear eyes. a glance in her direction. white fingers of ice stole around her heart and turned her mouth to dust. but regaining her composure she did not allow herself to dwell on the emotion. she chose to ignore the look. he revealed nothing in that split-second of communication. and, she hoped, neither did she. red flashes in her brain as she walked by. ignore it all. pass it all by. the red dimmed. green lushness out the window. green lushness soon to die, enclosed by the grey teeth of concrete and construction. a breath. a sigh. she rubbed her shoulder, all down her arm ending with her fingers. and back she went to looking at those beautiful white tiles, thinking. music blared within her own ears. music of her own invention.
she spread her sails once more and thought of him.