To Soar With Wings of Light

Splashes of Gold

Six weeks into the semester, Valerio realized how dissimilar he felt, mentally and emotionally, in comparison to his prior years of attending university.

Art courses were more appealing than gen ed ones in their own ways: 2D Design focused a lot on color theory, lighting, and shadow effects in painting; 3D Design had a more hands-on approach with students creating projects out of plaster, styrofoam, cardboard, etc.; Still Life Drawing was all about capturing every minute detail in a single, hand-drawn image; Drawing Anatomy 3's focal point had to do with achieving an in-depth understanding on how realistic bone and muscle structure should be portrayed on skin.

Major-specific classes were a few hours longer than other courses, but a genuine intrigue in their individual lessons made time fly. Sitting in on lectures wasn't a chore like they were before, nor did they bring about an ever present desire to fall asleep on top of a hard desk out of boredom.

If anything, more often than not, working hard in class was just as relaxing and rewarding as working on personal projects during a break.

Speaking of downtime, Valerio had a lot more than previous years as well. His courses didn't require textbooks. There wasn't a need to study since there were no real tests. He, instead, was given an opportunity to find new hobbies he couldn't pursue before—like weight training.

Most school days ended at 4pm. Grabbing some food and finishing up projects only took about another three hours. That left a good four or five hour long window to fill before turning in for the night to sleep. Since Valerio wasn't part of a certain club anymore, he needed another outlet to help him stay in shape.

So exercising at the campus' gym it was.

Plus, much to his surprise, dance class was also turning out to be a more enjoyable experience than initially anticipated.

Then again, it more than likely had to do with a, dare he say, wonderful companionship which formed with Theodore: the man who had a strange type of charm Valerio couldn't say no to.

***

Lightning strikes were seen in the reflection of wall-length mirrors. Hard droplets pounding against glass resounded through the open space of an occupied dance room. Other students, wrapped in formfitting sweaters and leggings, complained of dreary skies, harsh winds, and biting cold from the central air conditioning which hadn't been turned off yet by maintenance workers.

Valerio, leaning against the wall, toyed with a long strand of hair draped over his shoulder while observing a brutal thunderstorm.

Multicolored leaves danced around each other in a haphazard manner when being swept along by an unforgiving air current. Balding tree branches swayed, moving up and down to wave at those passing by. Visible flags were drenched in cold, refreshing water from dark, menacing clouds above. Neighboring buildings were illuminated by beams of yellow from indoor lighting seeping outward.

The scene was, indeed, dreary, along with being a fascinating, captivating spectacle to witness.

How Valerio longed for more days like those.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

He turned in surprise, thick eyebrows raising toward his hairline.

Theodore had his hands in the pockets of his leggings. Vibrant red from his ballet shoes' ribbons were laced up defined calves and hard shins. Though their shared class was introductory, thick, boxy ends at his toes were an unspoken indicator to show his experience in higher level dance.

Having no sleeves made it easy to take a gander at an intricate red dragon tattoo inked into the skin above his elbow. Impressive detailing continued along his bicep, past his deltoid, and disappeared beneath his shirt—probably to extend along his shoulder or chest.