everything, everthing

touch

❁

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personal information

maya hart hunter
103 butterfly way

-

normal people pace when they're nervous. farkle stalks around.

i roll my eyes impatiently and sigh. "farkle, it's only one photo! don't worry too much, im actually a pro," i've been trying to convince him to allow me to take one picture.

"you don't know who to use the lightning," he grumbles.

"you've already said that one, and plus shawn was a photographer, i know some stuff too genius," i smile.

"but film is expensive," he tries to argue.

"you know i can buy you more. i have so much money from allowances that for some reason i get. don't worry about it and just let me take the fucking picture," i say calmly.

"fine," he hands me the camera. the polaroid's smooth surface touches my skin and feels cold. i hold the camera up to my eye and try to decide what to take a picture of.

"what about the piano?" i point to the wooden object that has sheet music spread on top with an almost dead pencil.

"no, the lightning makes it too bright," farkle shakes his head. he seems uneasy about this camera. i was told that his mom gave it to him three winters ago before everything changed.

"how about the records?" i'm scared about what the answer will be so i close my eyes.

"actually yeah, that would look rad," the boy comments. i beam with delight from this small accomplishment. the record player itself is still spinning with a light tune in the background. vinyls are scattered on the floor along with a few notes we were taking.

i get into a position, making sure to get the right angle to approach the scene. i stand on top of my spin-able chair to get a better shot. i look through the lenses and get a better feel of what it will look like. from my view, it was too slanted so i tried moving over to the right but you can guess what happened. tip of the day, never try to walk when you're on a spinning chair.

i can feel myself in the air briefly for a second before i land in strong arms. my eyes flutter open scared to realize the truth. is that what will be my first contact with someone my doesnt approve. our eyes lock and he holds me close.

the camera flies out of my arms and somehow miraculously lands on the beanbag, snapping a photo of the moment. seems like a scene right out of a story book.

"careful, you could have gotten hurt bad," farkle whispers.

"but i didn't," i reply. we stay like that for a few seconds. friends are allowed to touch, right?

"what do you see," i ask.

"i see those freckles," he answers.

i laugh. "you're obsessed."

he shrugs. "maybe. they look like little sprinkles that have been drizzled slightly on your face. i see you lips that are rosy pink," his gaze goes down to my eyes then back up to my eyes. "i see that when you get nervous or are thinking, you bite you're lip. stop that. getting nervous i mean. there isn't anything you did wrong. but chew on your lip, it's cute,"

i try to say something but no words form in my mouth. how is he able to hold me up still?

"i see your golden locks that you play with often as a distraction. i want to play with your hair too, i know how to braid. for isa when she got her arm broken."

"that's sweet," i finally say.

"and i swear your eyes change color. it goes from bright electric blue to looking like sea glass. do you wear contacts? i can get lost in those ocean eyes, they're the mediterranean after all," he grins. he gently places me down and walks over to his undamaged camera. after picking it up, he takes the film out and shows me the picture. perfect. me and farkle just in each other's arms. he walks back to me and holds my hands.

"what do you see?"

i open my mouth but once i realize there were no words, i sheepishly closed my mouth. we stay like that for a few moments. looking at each other and holding hands. i never want to let go of these hands, a little rough from calluses but still gentle enough.

we begin to lean in and the only space between us is a small breath of air.

"i see your dimples trying to haunt me," i say.

closer. we get closer and closer. until, shawn's footsteps are heard and we part ways. he didn't see but this moment, wow

i am made. i am unmade.

❁