The morning light spilled through the classroom windows in soft stripes, dust motes floating lazily in the glow. The scent of fresh coffee and turpentine mingled in the air — somehow familiar, comforting.
Hannah was already at her desk, sorting through papers, when Emma came in balancing two mugs and a paper bag.
"Peace offering," she said. "The bakery had cinnamon rolls."
"You're spoiling me," Hannah teased, accepting the cup.
Emma grinned. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
They ate standing near the mural, surveying the half-finished waves. The colors looked almost alive in the morning light.
"It's strange," Emma said softly, "how fast it's come together. How fast everything's come together."
Hannah glanced at her. "You mean the mural?"
"I mean the days. Us working like this. It feels…" She hesitated. "Natural."
Hannah nodded, smiling into her coffee. "Yeah. It does."
The bell rang, breaking the quiet. Students began to drift in, their chatter filling the room. Emma and Hannah exchanged a small, secret smile — the kind that says we'll pick this up later.
Through the day, that easy rhythm held. The kids painted and joked, the mural stretched higher, and the two women fell into step with each other's movements without needing words.
But as afternoon shadows lengthened, a knock came at the doorway.
It was Principal Reeves — genial, curious, the kind of man who saw everything even when he didn't comment on it.
"Looks good in here," he said, studying the wall. "You two have made quite a team."
"Thank you," Hannah replied quickly.
Emma nodded, her smile polite but a little unsure.
Reeves lingered a moment longer. "We'll have to put the finished piece on the school website. People like seeing staff collaboration."
After he left, Emma exhaled, laughing quietly. "Was it just me, or did that sound a little… pointed?"
Hannah laughed too, but there was a faint color in her cheeks. "Maybe. Or maybe we've just been spending a lot of time together."
Emma's eyes sparkled. "Is that a problem?"
"Not to me," Hannah said. "But maybe we should pace ourselves a little."
"Or maybe," Emma countered, picking up a brush, "we just make sure the mural's worth the attention."
Hannah watched her for a moment before smiling. "Deal."
As the day wound down, the air between them hummed with quiet energy — not tension, exactly, but the sense that something small had shifted.
Outside, the sky was heavy with clouds, the first hints of rain promising to change the rhythm of tomorrow.