When Wednesday came along, Steve got out of bed early. Granted, he never fell asleep in the first place.
He ate a plain breakfast and chose to go on a run in a t-shirt and sweatpants.
He ran for a few hours, letting his legs lead him around the city streets and parks. Steve was much faster than the average jogger, especially when he full-on sprinted.
When he got back to his apartment, finally sweaty and out of breath, he took a short shower. The summertime heat made him quit sooner than usual. He got dressed in khakis and a blue button-up shirt, combing his blond hair properly. It was about time to leave.
He made his way back to that building on the way to the gym. The sign was gone, just the regular "Open" sign on the door was left. He pushed on the door and walked inside.
The old woman at the desk was gone, but off to the right he heard clanking noises along with chattering. He assumed that's where the classes were held.
He rounded the corner and found at least a dozen people sat at double-seated desks, some talking amongst themselves and others keeping silent. Natural light streamed in from a floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall window on the left side of the room.
A few people twisted in their seats to see him come in, some didn't care, others kept staring at him. Uncomfortable, he chose to sit down on the far right of an empty desk. Everyone then continued to talk to each other.
Steve checked the time on his watch and then folded his hands in his lap.
11:31am
Another person, a girl, came through the door and made her way into the room. Her eyes scanned the room before landing on the seat next to him. Her feet followed her gaze as she went to sit down on his left.
She's very pretty, he thought as she took a seat on the stool next to him.
"Hey!"
Steve looked up at the girl through his lashes, making sure she was actually talking to him. When he saw her looking at him, he lifted his head.
"Hi," he greeted.
He could feel himself getting nervous. The only woman he's had a full conversation with was Peggy. He was an awkward person by nature, and the only time he was comfortable talking was when he was talking to Bucky, or giving orders. His rough hands rubbed together under the desk.
"Are you new?"
Confused, Steve shook his head. "Ma'am?"
"I took this class last year. Most people that take these classes go to the college nearby," she explained.
"Oh. No, I'm... not in college. Why do you ask?"
"I haven't seen you around campus, so I thought you were a transfer student, sorry."
He didn't blame her. He was only 27 when he went into the ice, he could have been mistaken as a college student.
"So you're in college?" She hummed in response. "What's your major?"
"I study physics and electronic engineering at MIT. I'm expected to be getting my Masters next year."
"Oh wow, how do you have the time? Don't we meet here three times a week?"
She lightly laughed at him. "The first day is the only day we meet this early. The rest of the time we gather after-school hours for convenience. Everything will be explained today, don't worry."
"Ah, okay."
"So how old are you?"
He thought for a moment before telling her the truth, "94."
She laughed again, thinking he was joking. He didn't mind the sound, her laugh was lovely.
"No, really. How old are you?" she asked, still smiling.
He shook his head and replied, "27. You?"
"26."
His heart beat a little faster in his chest.
He opened his mouth to speak again when a middle-aged woman, who he assumed was the instructor, shuffled up to the front of the room to start the class. After giving everyone a rundown on what these classes entailed, she began to explain what they were going to do today.
Today, the entire group was going to the park a block down to sit and sketch what they saw. She said she wanted to start off easy.
Each person was handed a sketchbook and a pencil case filled with sharp wooden pencils. When everyone got their materials, they started walking down the sidewalk to the park. Eager to get started, Steve's tall figure was one of the first to break away from the group.
It was only a little after noon, so it was sunny out with barely any clouds in the sky. He chose to sit on a wooden bench in the shade, the sunshine only peaking through various spots when the leaves shook with the gentle breeze.
Steve took off his brown leather jacket and slung it over the bench, rolling up his sleeves and flipped open the sketchbook to the first page.
First, he set the background lines for perspective, which he would erase later. He drew lightly, the lead barely leaving visible lines. The gray lines were straight and parallel when necessary, just like he spent hours doing when he was a teenager. He drew landscapes, people, or anything that popped into his imagination. Anything he could come up with, he'd make it real on a piece of paper.
He started to draw the imperfect curves of the tree trunks, their roots sticking out of the ground, and their branches going every which way. Each small, singular leaf was included in the details of his drawing. He shaded the trunk vertically, the sun hitting it from straight above, so he darkened the bottom parts of the leaves only.
His instructor was walking around, peeking over the group member's shoulders to see their progress. Steve thought about what she said earlier.
Classes from now on would happen on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at 3:00pm, just in time for most of the college students to get out of class, and would go on for two hours. If one of them couldn't make it one day or randomly decide to drop the class, it was fine because it was simply for fun.
She made sure everyone in the room was 18 years old or older, because halfway through the class they'd have two different models come in for them to practice anatomy.
Now it wasn't unfamiliar for Steve to see naked men, as he was in the army. He regularly had to see his fellow soldiers change and also had to change in front of them, so it wasn't weird for him to see a naked male body.
The nude woman however, he was anxious about. He knew it wasn't disrespectful for him to eventually draw her because it was consensual and everything, but he still didn't want to be discourteous towards any woman. The art class, he had noticed when he came in, was mostly girls, and he didn't want to make them uncomfortable either. Even though he wouldn't look at any woman like that in the first place.
He discarded the thoughts from his head, deciding that he'd cross that bridge when he got to it. He ran his pencil along the page upwards, creating the concrete paths that eventually tapered off to the left, behind a tree. He drew the people that were jogging, walking their dogs, or sitting around like him.
Steve glanced to his left, spotting the girl sitting on a nearby bench. He looked down at his drawing so far, seeing he had drawn her outline subconsciously. He hesitated, then started to add more detail to her. Quick strokes for her hair and tiny circles to shade her clothes, bringing her to life.
Steve didn't know how much time had passed, but the class was dismissed from the park. He liked the outcome of his work, it was an exact replica of the view in front of him, but in white and different grays.
He felt so relaxed. More than he'd felt in quite some time.
With his photographic memory, Steve didn't need to stay at the park and continue drawing, but he did. It wasn't because he needed the reference, but because he enjoyed the peace it brought him.
And when he did go back to his apartment, sketchbook and pencil case in hand, his thoughts weren't on the stress-free afternoon he's had, but on the girl that chose to sit next to him.
It was ridiculous, he'd only just met her and the only thing she did was talk to him like a normal human being. Yet he couldn't help the erratic beating of his heart or the redness that came to his cheeks whenever her face popped into his mind.
Then, he just realized that he never got her name. Nor did he tell her his own.
He found himself looking forward to the next art class.