Francis had decided to skip the day's breakfast and made his way to the building's music room. Though he never showed it there were only a few things in this world that Francis not only tolerated but honestly enjoyed and music was one of them. As he entered the room a smile dawned on his face, but this one was not like the others he had worn before, this one was a small, dry smile, the type of smile one would show a old friend, but more importantly this was an honest smile for once. Francis walked the room, his silver eyes looking over every instrument in deep detail, and his fingers lightly dancing over the instruments he passed. Finally he came to a stop to a freshly shined black grand piano. Francis found himself sitting down and his fingers brushing over the keys, though not pushing down. At last he began to play a slow somber
tune. As he played he closed his eyes and let the music flow out of him.