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Post by Tatiana Maksim on Mar 31, 2015 20:17:13 GMT
White hair was tucked behind pale ears as the girl moved fluidly through the hall. It was mostly empty, with only a few students having fell behind the lunch rush. Most of the few friends she had managed to make were already at their designated table, but Tatiana didn’t choose to spend most of her lunches with them. She preferred to spend her lunches with her elder brother, who taught at the school. Sometimes she ate, sometimes she didn’t, but she always spent her time with him. While she did enjoy being around her friends, she would always put the company of any of her family members above them. She did her best to see everyone regularly, though sometimes it was difficult with the size of her family – at the very least it was easy for her to see Alena and Mikhail.
The fingers of her free hand closed around the doorknob as she gave it a turn and pushed. She entered fluidly thereafter, closing the door gently behind her. She could typically find her brother in this room around this time, since it wasn’t altogether uncommon for them to spend lunch together. Light feet led her through the room, and once she felt that she was a comfortable distance in, her backpack was removed and placed in a chair. It would be unzipped thereafter, and her lunchbox was taken out. She sat back on one of the desks thereafter, her food laid out carefully before her.
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Mikhail Maksim
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Job: Master's Student: Music Therapy & High School Music Teacher |
Post by Mikhail Maksim on Apr 7, 2015 2:34:03 GMT
Mikhail wasn’t in his classroom at the moment. From the board lines and notes drawn upon it, it was clear he had been, however, and upon a front table, several stacks of papers sat in a messy sort of ‘order’. The door to the instrument lock up was slightly ajar. To anyone who knew the carefulness of Mikhail, it was clear something unplanned for had caused him to step out for a moment. Hopefully he would be back soon, though. Yes, indeed. It would take five minutes before the sounds of feet stepping up to the classroom would become audible enough, yet sure enough, the young man who would poke his head through the door would be none other than Mikhail Maksim himself.
Prim and proper as always, the young man carried himself into the room, hands once pinned behind his back relaxing to his sides as he caught sight of who it was in his room. “Tati,” he commented coolly. “You know the desks aren’t for sitting on but sitting at.” A genuine lack of persistence on the matter sat upon his lips, but it was clear not because he would normally allow such a thing. His gaze was somewhat tired looking, as if perhaps he had not slept much the night before, and though he came to stand in front of her with ease, it was clear he would have preferred to sit.
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