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ćÉĪ¹Ī±ĘĻgĻ Ń cĻĘĻŃ:#BDA0CB ā ŃŠ½ĻĻ gŠ½Ń cĻĘĻŃ #F7B3DAć
|| [url=SONGURL]songname || artist[/url] ||
Winter watched the two siblings argue, wondering if she would spend the entirety of her visit standing in this doorway. Eventually, the two seemed to smarten up and Claude led Winter around the house, down to what Winter believed was the ground floor and to a room with a gold plaque that announced itself to be the theater. It was grand, certianly, but not on the scale of the venue Winter performed in. "Miss Daffodil left months ago. Our trigonomatry teacher is Professor Elk." Miss Daffodil had supposedly had a mental breakdown and disappeared from teaching. Which was fine, since Winter had hardly attended the class since she had returned to school. Claude pulled a curtain, the grand piano in all of its splendor, the color white, sitting propped on a platform that must have been their stage.
"Thank you Elise, that's very kind." Winter took a teacup from Vincent's tray, giving it a subtle sniff. Djarling, that would do. She placed two sugar cubes into the tea and stirred, taking a sip. She liked her tea sweet, just like her cake. "Thank you Vincent," Winter took another sip and placed her tea down, walking up the two steps onto the platform where the piano was. She lifted the lid, running her fingers over the keys and adjusting the bench. She pushed on the pedals to test them, fidgeting, taking her time. It wasn't nerves, no, Winter was never nervous during a performance. "Any requests?" She inquired, removing her gloves. She placed them on the bench beside her, resting her fingers on the keys, feeling them.
If one looked closely, they could see small snowflakes sticking to the surface of her skin. The tips of her fingers were slightly purple, as though they were cold, despite the comfortable temperature in the room. "Alright," she breathed, looking upwards, then pressing down on the first few keys. River Flows In You, the first song she had commited to memory with her music teacher. Piano was only one of the ten instruments she played but by far one of her favorites. The song drifted through the air, the delicate notes heavy. Her head tilted back as she was playing, the music flowing through her. It was as though there were flurries in the room, drifting down on them. It was gentle and delicate, a moment frozen in time, the way music should be played.
When it ended, Winter looked down at the keys, her eyes widening. There was ice on them. She closed the lid quickly and replaced her gloves, reaching for her cane. "We should probably began working on our project." After all, they only had two weeks until it was due. "Elise if you don't want to work with us, then we can't put your name on it." Winter rose, leaning on her cane. She would not give credit to someone who hadn't done anything. Winter picked up her cup of tea, taking a sip. She hadn't heard from Janet yet, which she was relieved about. Perhaps Janet was giving her a bit of independence? Or maybe the network in Claude's home wasn't as good? Winter sat down in one of the theater seats and took out her backpack, rifling through her papers.
They had been given a packet on what they were expected to do. They were supposed to write an advertisement and come up with an idea on a product to help make trigonomotry easier. "Oh, look at that." Winter gestured towards the window. "The rain stopped," she had expected it to, considering there hadn't been a cloud in the sky when she had gotten here. In fact, it had been a beautiful day.