Through The Lens | ✓

1

It was in a cafe one day.

A least expected moment, a total surprise.

My latte was sitting in front of me, its steam twirling up towards the brown ceiling.

People chattered all around me as my camera lens focused on one person, a boy to be exact. A boy of total distinction and beauty.

He sat there with his book balanced in his hand, the other gripping his mug. A croissant sat beside his mug, untouched. His eyes scanned the words on the page, his face showcasing deep concentration.

I zoomed in, getting a better view. My breath hitched at his beauty; dark hair falling in his eyes, eyes the color of the ceiling, only better, tan skin that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.

He glanced up from his book, and I quickly swerved in my seat, aiming my camera towards the window. I snapped a quick photo for effect, it came out blurry.

I glanced back at the beautiful creature sat only five feet away from me. He wasn't looking at me anymore, his view was back on his pages, and there was a sliver gone from his croissant.

Then, I snapped a photo. It came out perfectly.

It seemed as if he knew I was taking a picture. His finger had paused, his body stayed still, and I snapped the perfect picture.

And it was one of many.