guilty of devotion - [dnp au]

15.:. when the party's over // billie eilish

THIS CHAPTER IS PUBLISHED WITH THE 2ND PART OF CHAPTER 14. READ IT FIRST.

TW: implied sexual content, character's death, mentions weed

january 16th - high enough // k.flay

look how quickly the colours change

and stain,

and, suddenly, you're colourblind.

- Put your chin up. Look proud.

He follows my demand, nervously putting a strand of hair behind his ear before stepping back into the wisp of studio lamp's, pointed at him, light. Typically on the other side of the camera, where it's easier to be laid back, he's clueless of how to model.

Yet my heart pounds looking at the simply dressed boy. Pressing the + button twice, zooming in on his facial features to focus and see them in HQ. As if I really were that close to this face.

The second white balance and aperture's adjusted, I take a vertical picture. Once again. And another time, so many up until Phil laughs at me circling around the room, taking poorly framed photographs that won't be any good for handing in. His guffaw; that's when I stop to snap a fine one of him smiling from ear to ear at how silly this try-hard photo shoot has turned out.

Phil rests his back against the grey wall behind him, facing the distant exit door to his right. The grey long sleeve he's wearing blends in with the background. Carefully, to not trip over a wire, I approach him to take a photo of his profile from behind, camera situated against the wall, too.

He giggles softly, neck muscles tightening, as I take another. Just as gorgeous.

- Show me. - Phil faces me, an arm stretched out against the wall, and I step forward, clicking the media button on my Canon. He dares to rest his chin on my shoulder to see the picture more clearly, as if his presence weren't a burden on my sanity already.

The white balance is off as I'd forgotten to readjust it, colours appearing like stains - so bright, impossible to name. As though I'm colourblind and, really, I am sometimes. Failing to see what's there or taking a while to notice, and to recognize the real emotion.

Once Phil's declared he digs the shades because they're uncommon, he returns to the circle of fluorescent light beaming down the wall and I continue capturing him in all his simplicity, character and pride, which I proposed to find earlier. All until my phone goes off, vibrating so intensely we can't focus on the moment.

En, that's who's calling me, turns out when I check the phone and my thumb lingers over the green button. I look up, crossing gazes with Phil's blues instantly, and arise from the ground to get a tad away from the distracting boy.

- Happy birthday! I couldn't call you earlier as I forgot to set an alarm and ended up not― En rambles, failing to hold my attention as I am suddenly painfully aware of Phil observing me from behind, eyes locked on my neck. Despite of remaining in his position across the stuffed airtight studio, which I arranged to inhabit for an hour, I swear I could feel the quivers of his breath.

- You already wished me a good one at midnight, it's fine. What'd you want? - I remind, deadpan from my lack of energy. - I'm rather occupied.

Occupied. Or voluntarily escaping the entire humanity to spend a moment alone. Phil doesn't count, he's around at all times. With just him, I'm still alone because of getting so used to it.