Canon | (Harry Styles AU)

[eight]

"Who was it?" I ask without needing to.

"Dr. Stenson, they need some help in the ER tonight," My mom sighs, putting her oven mitts down,"Stacy called in sick and they're really short hand..."

"I'll be fine alone," I shrug, fooling around with the settings of my new camera. I guess something good came from this 'new' life.

"I'm sorry Bub," She says, clearly feeling guilty since I've spent most of the summer home alone, not that I mind at all but she still doesn't seemed convinced.

"It's fine, I'm really tired anyway," I say. Truth be told, I didn't mind staying home alone, especially since I've been preoccupied with other things.

___________________

"I'll be home around six or seven, they're giving me a full shift tonight," She says as she slips her thin arms into her cardigan.

"I'll be asleep then," I say allowing her to kiss me on the cheek,"See you don't even have to worry."

"We can have breakfast together.I'll call you on my lunch, don't forget to turn the oven off when timer rings," She reminds me as she walks out the front door,"I love you."

"Sure thing, Love you too," I reply in a monotone trying to figure out all the extra settings on this camera.

The settings are a more updated version seeing as this camera and lens are the newest ones to be released by Canon compared to my old faithful. I really want to start my portfolio for the project as soon as I can and my old camera just won't do. Sure the pictures are good, but they could be better.

Half an hour later I'm still sitting on the kitchen stool looking through all the terrible filters this thing comes equipped with. I focus on the tiny monitor, through the annoying beeping noise I keep hearing every few seconds.

When I finally figure the camera out as much i feel necessary I rest it down on the counter remembering how hungry I was when my mom put the pizza in the...

Shit.

I jump off the stool, grabbing the oven mitts to open the now smoke filled oven, before quickly thinking of the brilliant idea of tossing it outside. I rush over to the back door, sliding it open so I can throw the hot, burnt pizza outside as quick as I can. I leave the back door open slightly, just to air out the smoke and smell intoxicating the air.

As I open the medium sized window near the front door I notice she's just getting home, her wannabe boyfriend's stupid music being so loud you could hear it for miles. I go back into the kitchen after grabbing a bag of chips, shutting off the lights, rushing upstairs to my room before I'm too late.

I haven't seen her all day and I need to snap something before I start my project off on the wrong foot. She's what I chose to shoot for the next sixty days like the project says to do.

One subject, sixty days, one after another.

I discretely stick my camera and head slightly out the window waiting. Her bedroom light is off and I can hear someone shouting, probably her, meaning I haven't missed her yet.

It's nearly one:am and I can't believe she's just now getting home this late.I've come to find that her dad doesn't like that much, particularly when she's out with that douche.

When he saw the time on the clock, no doubt did he remind her tonight of her curfew, leaving the evidence for tomorrow. Something her mother will tell her to brush off and cover like she always does.

But she doesn't care, she never seems to.

I wait around the window for nearly an hour before she finally emerges. Just as I assumed, she's crying.