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Mlle Rose's Marvelous Words
A collection of poems and short stories (mostly) that I wanted to share with others, and perhaps even get some feedback on.
Art in Motion: a short story
This is a short story I wrote based on a roleplay character I made, and a possible character there could have also been in the roleplay I made her for - I sort of became attached to her, as you can see. This is the first in a short series of short stories I plan on making.

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"Art in Motion"


Kathryn was unimpressed. Since when did the gardens become the new hideout for couples? Heaving a sigh, she continued to wander through the school grounds.

Outside…It has to be outside. But where?

Kathryn chewed on her lower lip as she thought. She hitched her tote bag a little higher onto her shoulder while her pale blue eyes scanned the area for a suitable place to sketch.

Of course, it all depends on what I want to sketch. Kathryn considered this idea for a moment, but her mind came up blank. It seemed as if anything would do, yet at the same time she had no desire to do anything. She sighed again; this was depressing.

Finally, inspiration struck Kathryn in the form of a loud male voice. As she was able to recognize it as a teacher's, Kathryn’s curiosity was perked and she began to head towards the sound: towards the track.

Approaching from behind the bleachers, Kathryn attempted to sneak a peek at what was going on from between the benches, but it proved to be of little use. She could only see partial torso’s moving by – she couldn’t identify a single person. Not to say she would be able to anyways, but had she recognized someone she may have felt less nervous. Her free hand moved up to push some stray strands of auburn hair behind her left ear; she came around the side of the bleachers and peered out at the runners with slight curiosity. A few people glanced at her as they passed, but overall she remained unnoticed, so Kathryn dubbed the area safe and climbed up onto the bleachers to take a seat.

She was quick to retrieve her sketch book and pencils, thanking the heavens for the windless day (even if it was a bit cloudy). Her eyes began to scan the runners below her; as an artist she was looking for just the right “specimen”. This specimen she found was a shorter boy, though he appeared to be of the same age; his steps seemed almost casual to Kathryn and his expression was serious. She was reminded of other artists of all kinds; limbs moving with grace while the face remains focused on something far beyond natural sight.

Her pencil began to move over the paper before she really realized what she was doing. Her blue eyes remained on the boy for a while, only glancing at her sketches briefly, wanting more to imprint the image of the boy into her mind. It did not take long before her first page was covered in small concept designs; some involving the full torso, others only the face or a leg. She stared at the page for a long moment, her eyes intent, before suddenly flipping the page and beginning to sketch some more. This time, Kathryn remained bent over her page and did not glance over to the track at all – her focus was entirely on the image that was projected in her mind at that moment.

Time passed without Kathryn paying it any mind, so when the team ended their practice and went their separate ways, she did not notice. Somewhere at the back of her mind, the sound of murmuring and footsteps was recognized, but not consciously. Same for the sound of someone climbing onto the bleachers and approaching the brown haired artist.

"Hey, that’s me!” Kathryn nearly ran her pencil straight through the middle of her picture due to the shock she received. She had not noticed the boy approach, and hearing him speak so close – she had jumped and nearly yelped.

Turning her head, Kathryn found herself facing the very boy she’d been sketching. His face was flushed, and she could both see and smell sweat, but she found herself not bothered by these things. The brightness of his eyes and the smile on his lips as he looked over her shoulder…it made her feel a bit proud.

"Yes,” her voice was soft and she felt her face flush. She did not want him to get the wrong idea.

“Do I really look like that when I run?”

“Like what?"

The boy gestured vaguely, “Intense? Focused?"

Kathryn chuckled despite herself, “I found so…although I may have exaggerated it a bit."

The boy grinned wider. “You think you could make me more toned? I mean, if you’re going to exaggerate you’d might as well go all the way, right?”

“If you want me to, I guess I could…although I kind of like it this way.” The boy tilted his head to the side a bit, causing a few golden curls to fall over his forehead.

He pursed his lips as he seemed to consider Kathryn’s words. “Well, you’re the artist. I’m Kevin, by the way.”

“Kathryn.” The two exchanged a smile.

Perhaps it wasn’t so bad that the gardens had become a hiding spot for couples after all.





 
 
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