<div class="floatright">(http://36.media.tumblr.com/a852a59bb42a78fdd90ebb6ee66936ec/tumblr_o226shAGQd1rbmrhdo2_1280.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Aimee Ryan<br/><strong>Sortment:</strong>First year Silver Student<br/><strong>Mood:</strong>Indecisive<br/><strong>Clothes:</strong>Outfit (http://www.polyvore.com/aimee_winter/set?id=65118572)<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Trent (Mxy)<strong><em>[Closed]</em></strong><br/><strong>Location/Date/Time:</strong>Bean There Coffee house, October 7, 11 AM<br/><hr/><br/><br/>Talk about thoroughly engrossed in her work.  Even the sounds of the shop around her died into just a din of background noise while she focused on the task at hand.  This is where it got hard, every image had some little piece of her in it and so, choosing just a few to show in class and have critiqued felt like having to choose her favorite friends or favorite part of herself.  Then there was the critique itself.  Standing in front of other people as they judged her work felt like standing there with her soul on the outside.  She felt more exposed than if she just stood there naked.  She didn't mind naked.  She actually<em>liked</em>being naked and would prefer it to having her work, little bits of her soul, judged.<br/><br/>She picked up and put down the four architectural images in turn, studying them and looking critically at each element.  The voice behind her took her by surprise, causing her to jolt a bit in her seat.  Thank goodness her coffee wasn't in her hand! She may have cried if she spilled it over the images.  Aimee turned her head and heart skipped a beat.  She thought she imaged his voice, that it would be someone else's face.  But no, Trent Carpenter, professor and distraction stood right there looking all relaxed and delicious.  She drew a deep breath.<br/><br/><strong>"Hello Mister Carpenter"</strong>She smiled.<em>Remain calm, this is not a drill!</em>Her heart hammered in her chest.  A fine sheen of sweat broke out across her palms causing her to rub them over her jeans.<strong>"Portfolio assignment for photography, on light."</strong>She explained in a light tone, but loud enough to be heard.  She hadn't been hiding anything from him, well except maybe her actual reasons for being in class.  She simply didn't have the innate ability to draw or paint.  She could see and capture beauty, just not create it.<br/><br/><strong>"Would you like to sit down?"</strong>Aims asked him.  A nervous flutter somersaulted through her stomach in the fragments of time it took for him to reply.  What might have been a few seconds in reality felt like ages to her.  Would he sit with her? How were they supposed to act outside of class? It's not like she was a child seeing her teaching outside of class.  They were both adults.