Wrote a full story for the seven! I must go attend to less exciting things now like the thousand and one projects I have due within the next six days. So I got to slow down here.

monday, march twenty-eighth
welcome to east coast weather! a freak snow storm has shut down classes for the day, so feel free to run amok around campus and do whatever the f*ck you want.

I’m attracted to the snow.
But only when it first falls, only in the earliest dawn when it’s still pure and silky, and not interrupted by grubby trails, signs of life. It’s as though I can sense it, waking up. It’s five a,m., still rather dark, and my lids pop open in the mid sentence of the dream I was having. It was snowing. You can feel it. Feel the insulation, the excessive cold.
I hop out of bed and into boots and a coat. I peep through the curtains, trying to make out the glow. On the horzon, a very think line of sunrise glistens, but everything else is the color of a deep dark bruise.
I let the curtain fall and scurry out quick and silent—my roommate is a rather disagreeable prissy sort, who believes I’m the one who’s full of myself, and waking her would warrant misery on my part. The school is eerie in the morning, so silent but I enjoy it, enjoy feeling like the last girl on earth. I race down the stairs, across the hall out the door, and into the chill.
Frostbitten. I halt on the landing before the stairs, where a covering kept it shielded. How can I be the one to ruin such a perfect sight? It stretches like white velvet as far as the eye can go, until shilloutettes of pine are charred black against the sky. 
I breathe, and the crystallized breath billows. 
It’s spring, and it’s still the dead of winter. I smile to myself; this is me. This, holy, first snow thing. This is me.
And I place the first foot step down into the powder with a satisfying crunch.
A movement darts from one tree to the next, about fifteen feet away. I’m balanced like a flamingo. And my wide eyes move to catch it. But it’s gone.
No. There it is again. A flash of nimble legs. A deer? Perhaps.
I place down my other foot and try to stay very still.
And then there they are, racing out across the open. Two horses. Lovers, trampling across the spring snow. A white and brown one. They’re farther now, but I can see them plainly. The sun comes up over their backs. 
This is their morning. Without making any more footprints, I hop back onto the stairs, and back in doors.

It happened by complete chance that I met the one person in this in entirely rubbish wasteland who could prepare a proper afternoon tea. After waking up quite early, I promtpy huddled under my bed, and went back to sleep until ten, and have a done a grand lot of absolutely nothing all day. Butsuch a cold moment and excessive freetime just warrented a steamy cup, and until luck bestowed kisses upon me, I had a grand time trying to make something resembling tea in the student kitchen area.
“What is this complete defecation?! Lipton green tea? Right cheap bastards, I swea,” I shouted about to no one in particular after pulling a paper cup out of the microwave, and burning my tongue on the taste. 
A chuckle sprang up behind me. And so I sprung and snapped, “Well, it’s true!” Before realizing that the chuckle was from an adult. A teacher. “Oh!”
“No, it’s quite understandable. Personally, I order my own stache in bulk alone so I don’t have to bare the school’s. Americans.” He waved his hand dismissvely. 
“Oh. You’re English!” Brilliant deduction, Iz. I could’ve poked my self in the eye with a fork.
He gives his head a nod in greeting. “As are you, correct? I’m Professor Elbrook. I teach physics for the 11th and 12th grades”
“Isolde Morton.” I cocked my head. “I’m only in 10th.” A pause. “You mentioned something about keeping your own stash?”
“I did.” He raised his brow, and it was at that moment that I saw how much younger he was than most the professors. No wonder it didn’t occur to me at first--he was deliciously handsome. “I asume you’d like some?”
“Yes please,” I smiled shyly. 
It was a quick thought, not a half second, but in my mind I pictured the next hour. Going back to his room. Having a proper chai. Small talk. Crossing my legs. Biting my lip. He couldn’t resist.
A second later, my eyes grew wide, horrified at the thought.
But all he said was, “Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” before, “It’s was nice to meet you Isolde.” and then he was gone.
I gripped the steamy paper cup, and mumbled. “Oh god.”
{Prof. Elbrook=the infinitely sexy Jude Law.}
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