Love Tides | ✓

four | shattered

η θεραπεία για τα πάντα είναι αλμυρό νερό: ιδρώτα, δάκρυα ή θάλασσα

[ the cure for everything is salt water : sweat, tears or the sea ]

☆ ☆ ☆

Avery cursed. Avery cursed a lot that day.

The leaves ruffled against Avery as he pushed past the enormous bushes and trees. Here and there, the thorns of a few flowers pricked his skin, causing him to hiss in pain. It was an endless cycle as he struggled against the large plants, one hand clutching the camera on his side and the other out in front of him, his eyes were half closed, in order for nothing to prick his eye.

The large mass of trees wallowed around him as he brushed past an ant infestation. It all seemed so surreal as he continued to tackle away from the neverending forest to reach his destination.

He was determined to prove Adamos wrong - that he was much more than an amateur, Avery believed that he was good, good enough to win. And thats what he wanted, thats the only thing that he wanted. The term 'wannabe Jean Taylor' struck to him, Avery didn't want to photograph mediocre puppies and hamsters for the rest of his life. He wanted to be a somebody.

Trudging past the preponderance of trees, Avery blew a breath of relief as he reached the destination.
It was a large vineyard, but instead of grape vines, stood lemon trees. The soury sweet smell of citrus mazed around the soil up to the tops of the lemon trees. From a distance, across the hills, stood the setting evening sun, its light reflecting on the yards of sweet citrus.

Avery smiled as he raised the camera, adjusting its lens, he looked through the peep, attempting to catch the perfect angle. From there, he took a series of photographs, all from different angles and perspectives as they featured the setting sun above the large neverending vineyards.

Lowering the camera, Avery grinned as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"This is private property!"

Avery jumped as he swiveled around quickly, dropping the camera in the process. Eyes wide he looked at the correspondent of the voice. There in front of him stood Penelope, she looked the same that she did in morning, except this time her hair was slightly wet and so was her clothing, in her hand, she clutched the same small floral journal from before. Penelope's expression, mirrored his.

"Avery? What are you doing here?" Penelope stepped forward, tilting her head to the side in question.

"I'm just taking some photos here. What-What are you doing here?" Avery asked, throwing a small curious eye in her direction.

Penelope looked around while shrugging. "My dad owns this place, I come here every evening because tourists like to sneak into private property and steal or lemons."

"Who would want to steal lemons?"

"You would be surprised how many mothers do," nodded Penelope, before a feeling dawned onto her.

"How did you even find this place?"

"I had to visit Mr. Bakirtzis, because of the photography contest-"

Penelope quickly interrupted him, "You're that Avery Lawrence?"

"Yes," Avery confirmed with a nod.