psithurism // l.t

[i]

She hurriedly sat on the bench, twisting her bag so it landed on her lap. She pulled out her sketch book and a pencil and began drawing the figure in front of her. She bent her head closer to the book, biting her tongue as she finished the body of it. 

She unconsciously smiled when she heard a soft whistle. She strained her ears to hear it again, tilting her head towards the sky. 

He watched her curiously. He began wondering why she was just sitting there, a look of pure content on her face. He strayed away from his group of friends and sat down next to the unusual girl. He was pretty sure she hadn't noticed him until she spoke, making him jump.

"I enjoy psithurism."

"What is that?"

"The sound of the win through the trees."

"Why?"

"It's calming. We all need a little peace in our lives, you know."