The Moth

Chapter Twenty-Five: Days In Color// Photographs

Chapter Twenty-Five: Days In Color// Photographs

"Ah!"

A pair of hands covered my eyes and I jumped, dropping my book on my foot. I hissed in pain, trying to get a hold of the hands over my eyes. I was pulled backwards against someone's chest, feeling warm breath near my ear.

"I'll give you one guess at who this is, or you buy ice-cream."

"Ugh. Lyon," I groaned. "Who else would it be?"

Lyon removed his hands and I stepped away, turning to face him.

"Oh, I don't know. Any other friend of yours?" He rubbed the back of his neck, jumping backwards when I tried to kick his shin.

"Joke's on you, I have no friends." I swung my foot out once more, smiling when it collided with his knee.

"Ow! Fine, fine. Nevermind. I shouldn't have done that."

I watched him rub his leg.

"Teaches you a lesson."

"What the heck, Cecilia," he said, reaching down to pick up my book. He muttered something under his breath about a 'crazy woman.'

"What was that?" I raised my voice, grabbing his wrist when he handed me the book. He tugged, laughing nervously.

"Oh come on, let me go."

I held on tighter. "Who's crazy?"

He twisted his hand around and grabbed my wrist, pulling me off balance and I stumbled forwards on the hard concrete..

"You," he started. "I called you freaking psychotic."

Pulling my arm behind my back, he laughed. "Say I win."

I started kicking my feet again, struggling to get away. "You can't just call people psychotic when you're acting like a little freak!" I shrieked.

He grabbed my waist and shoulder, holding me in place. "Say I win," he said simply.

I hit the corner of my book on his hand and he jerked his hands away.

"No." I stuck my tongue out.

He smiled, eyes twinkling.

"Leave, jerk."

"Nah, I'm kinda bored, to be honest." He stuck his hands in his pockets, watching me.

"I wasn't even bothering you," I said, crossing my arms. "Go away and be bored somewhere else."

"Photography, huh?" he said, motioning towards my book.

"Of course it is. I'm a photographer."

["Or maybe i'm just a memory," she said, glancing at me. "Trying too hard to make an imprint in this world."]

He looked interested. "Learning something new?"

I shook my head, handing the book to him. "It's old. I've read through it too many times already. I just like flipping through it now."

He flipped through the curled pages then laughed, handing it back to me. "I didn't understand a word that I saw in there."

I smiled and paused, looking at the book.

"I... can show you, you know," I murmured.

"What?"

I pursed my lips, looking across the street. "Where I edit my pictures. I have a big closet at home that I use as a workroom."