Sweetish

Chapter 8

*click*

Her camera goes off, a flash of light followed by the sound of its internal computer digitizing the photo. Dulce was hypnotized by the green liquid that shimmered and flowed through it's crystal clear pipes. It always enraptured him to watch the picture develop.

When the

*chirp*

finally went off it signaled that the photo was done and he came closer to take a look.

A silken sky that bled into an ombre of royal purple to maroon to marigold, twinkling full of rhinestone stars, red and gold and blue. It all melted gently down, only broken up by cotton clouds, to a bright blinding belt of gold before reversing itself in waves, effortlessly dancing against the invisible wind. The chic and textured hemline pulled the whole look together in a modern yet artistic A-line gown, underlined with a pale coral petticoat adorned with a delicate sandy motif, lightly freckled with multicolored shells.

"Well, drown me."

Dulce was always so impressed with everything Sammy made, no matter how simple. The way she could take a moment and make it look like a portal to a perfect world at the perfect time felt like magic to him. At first she thought it was simply because he had moved away from South Lumen Forest and couldn't adjust but no, she was simply a savant in his eyes.

She also noticed he thought she was an idiot at times. Like how she didn't know butter came from a plant, unlike what she learned from her 'alien cartoons'.

Humantai. It's CALLED humantai. He's an idiot for not knowing THAT. Or how he had to ask her just now if she really wanted to delete that photo. Wait what?

She stumbled with the camera before saving the picture and stuffing it into her pocket, and very very casually leaning on the bike in attempt to flirt again.

"You know, I only take pictures of the things I find gorgeous, gorgeous." She sent a kiss though the air and and a sultry wink right after, all accompanied by her pretending to take a picture.

Dulce was stone faced. "Cute." Was all he could bring himself to say. To anyone else but him, they would have taken her seriously, fallen in love, only to have their hearts devoured like a line of candy wrappers leading to a chocolate covered child. But no, he knew her enough by now to know that she just watches too many cartoons.

It's not that he didn't like attention, he just found it better when she was herself instead of trying to put on a front.

He's not friends with the Samuela superstar photographer, the cassanova, the princess of fashion. He's friends with Sammy, who almost deleted the picture of the sunset, Sammy who left the house perfectly ready with everything except for her own car, only to forget her keys inside them at the event. Sammy who once called him in the middle of the night crying because some cartoon hairdresser wanted to find a HairPiece and had his brother die?

She has relaxed quite a bit over the six months they've known each other, but old habits die hard and she still tries to flirt to distract him from her natural goofiness.

He doesn't remember ever saying being goofy was a bad thing.

What he can't deny is that she does it well, and it's better than the attention he usually gets.

They step off the bike and head south, Sammy clicking away at boring little dust crystals and bits of broken Counterfit Shells, completely oblivious to the fact that the man leading her was a little tenser than before. He tiptoed around the sharp shells, controlling his breath.