Through The Lenses

♨️Caution Hot | 1

ALL PHOTOS SHOWN IN EACH CHAPTER BELONG TO ME, I TOOK THE PHOTOS AND DO NOT COPY ANY, SOME WERE OF ACTUAL PEOPLE I KNOW AND UNLESS GIVEN THEIR PERMISSION (which I doubt) DONT COPY THE PHOTOS.
_______

My fingers hovered over the rim of my cup. The warmth tingled my fingertips. I saw a movement in my peripheral vision and looked up at my friend. She was stirring her drink mindlessly, she must've been dozing off again.

"Don't you ever savor the look of your espresso before demolishing it?" Her head snapped up, sobering her from her daze.

"Unlike you, I don't take pictures of coffee that have hearts in it" she shrugged.

"Now how are you to know that yours had a heart in it if you didn't look?".

"Easy-" she took a sip.

"-I bought it" I rolled my eyes.

"I find Latte Art very unique" I stated.

"Well I don't" Cindy muttered.

"Why you gotta be so rude?" I half-sang, half-spoke.

She glared at me.

"That was-no, is by far the dumbest song ever!"

"Why? All the guy is asking is why the father won't give him blessing when he wants to marry his daughter"

"That's the point!" Her hands shot up in the air.
"All he says is 'why are you being rude, I'm going to marry the damn girl anyways'. If the fathers freaking judgments won't affect your decision on marrying his daughter, why bother asking him for his blessings!".

"Chill, it's just a song" I chuckled.

"Yeah? It better stay that way for his own good" I laughed at her expression.

"Now let me give you a good picture of what Latte Art looks like since you'll never know because all you'll do is mess it up once you get your next cup".
I took out my old Polaroid camera from my bag. My grandmother gave me that camera, it was originally hers. She passed away and gave it to me since she knew how much I loved it, now it's everything to me. I put in one photo sheet and angled the camera. I took out the picture once I snapped the photo.
"Wait a while" I fanned the photo until the image appeared.

"Here" I handed it to her. She looked at the picture and stood up.
"Hazel Dearborn everyone!" She said loudly and bowed at me.
"Sit down!" I whispered harshly as I sunk in my seat, avoiding the eyes that met mine. She laughed and sat back down at our table.
"You'll thank me when your famous" She smirked.

"-Or when I die of embarrassment" I muttered.

"I can do it again if you'd like". I was sure my face answered what she said since she let out a laugh.

"Mind if I actually keep this photo?" She asked softly. I gave a her smile.

"Of course".

After our small chat, we went back to my house. Cindy collapsed on my bed and heaved a sigh of exhaustion. I laid down next to her, not that she was really leaving me that much space. I stared at the small flowers that crept onto my ceiling. I remembered when my father had painted it for me. I was brought back to when I was seven and we moved into our current estate.

"Daddy?" I asked tugging on bottom of my fathers pants.

"Yes my dear?" He looked down at me from up on the ladder. I quickly lifted up my grandmothers camera and snapped a picture of my dad. I then looked up again.
"Why are you painting flowers up there?" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.