Meet me in the art room at lunch. I've got something for you to look at-- Michael

OK, spaceboy, she thought to herself, now what's gotten into you? Sighing, she resigned herself to having to sit through classes until lunchtime, dying to know what Michael was up to. His sociable periods were few and far between, so she figured she'd better take advantage of this one. She'd never admit to anyone that it pleased her when he actually acted like he needed her.

Freestate
I can hear your soul crying
Listen to your spirit sighing
I can feel your desperation
Emotional deprivation
Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your feelings show

She watched him through the open door for just a few moments, enjoying his lithe movements as he worked on a sketch. He was in his element when he was drawing or painting; he'd taken to art like the proverbial duck to water, and no one had been more surprised about that than he. She stepped quietly inside, not wanting to interrupt him, but he must have sensed her.

"Hi," he said without turning around.

"Hi yourself," she returned, waiting. He flipped through a sketch pad and extricated a paper. Turning, he thrust it at her, feigning indifference.

"Here," was his only comment, and then the real Michael peeked over the stone wall long enough to say, "I wanted to know what you thought before I painted it." Wandering away, affecting nonchalance, he began shuffling noisily through the contents of his supply locker, careful not to look at her.

Maria arched an eyebrow in his direction, amused by his behavior, and then turned her attention to the paper. It was a sketch of a dancer under the full moon, gracefully arching back, and though most of the dancer's face was not visible, Maria recognized herself. She was stunned. "Michael, I-"

He half turned, still not looking at her. "You what?"

"This is incredibly thoughtful...it's wonderful," she wanted to hug him til he couldn't breathe, but she didn't want to scare him, when getting him to open up even this much was so difficult.

He finally faced her, gently extricating the paper from her grasp. Turning away to replace it in his sketch book, he said hesitantly, so softly she almost couldn't hear him, "I remember the way the moonlight looked on you the night that I..." he trailed off, unwilling to voice any more, trusting her ability to pick up on his nonverbals. 'cried myself to sleep in your arms,' both of them finished silently in their minds.

Picking up the conversations
Deep in your imagination
Tune in to the lonely voices
Talking of their only choices
Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your spirit grow

"Would you...I mean, will you be at the Crashdown later?" He made himself very busy fiddling with things in his locker, so as to avoid her eyes. He was nervous enough as it is without her direct, clear gaze cutting through him.

She stepped forward, stopping directly behind him. "Michael," she said his name quietly.

He turned, and she curved her hand around the back of his head, fingers sliding through his soft hair. "Yes," she pressed a delicate kiss onto the corner of his mouth and released him, stepping back. He blinked, rather dazed, and a goofy grin escaped him before he could suppress it.

Step out of your cage and onto the stage
It's time to start playing your part
Freedom awaits
Open the gates
Open your mind
Freedom's a state

"Good. I mean, maybe I'll see you there," he hastily amended, and she frowned at him. "Stop looking at me like that, I can't keep you out when you look at me like that," he muttered, dropping his eyes.

I can taste the tears falling
The bitterness that's inside you calling
Yearning for a liberation
Emotional emancipation
Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your senses overflow

Maria had the temerity to giggle at his obvious struggle, and he glared at her. She leaned slowly closer to him, looking up at him through her lashes with her best smoky bedroom eyes, lips parted as though she was going to kiss him. To his credit, he stayed perfectly still, dark eyes fixed on her mesmerizing aqua ones, and just before their lips touched, she tilted her head back and licked the tip of his nose. Laughing, she scooted out of his reach towards the doorway as he sputtered and wiped frantically at his nose. He chased her, and of course she allowed herself to be caught. Pinning her, he gave her a long stare that thoroughly heated her blood, and then he did the most surprising thing of all.

He smiled.

Not a sarcastic smile, not a mocking smirk. A simple smile, with all of Michael there in his eyes for her to see.

And he kissed the tip of her nose, saying, "I'll see you at the Crashdown," and then left the art room, leaving her glowing with happiness and floating about a foot off the ground.