Niall Centric One-Shots

The Perfectionist

Warning(s): Mild gore

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The camera flashes once again, one quick second of blinding light onto the scene the photographer is trying to pull together.

They used to tell Niall, the photographer, that a picture was worth a thousand words. He proved that wrong daily.

These photos he took weren't for meaningful displays of how happy life could be, or to show the beauty of natural formations. Niall's photos were worth more than a few mere words to him; they were an outlet for his constant anxiety. They were an outlet to perfection; it was a moment where he could make life how he wanted it.

He could pose anything in any moment to make it match the precise, perfect snippet that he could cherish for the rest of his days.

Niall's finger loomed over the snapshot button, surveying the scene through the lens. Niall sighed deeply as the dim lighting pulled out a flaw on his photo. He readjusted the lights several times before the bright lighting put a new light on the model's complexion.

The white shirt that hung low on his shoulders put emphasis on his jut out collarbones, his hair was dark and styled in waves that pulled back past his ears. His jaw line was sharp and perfect from the profile view of his face, his nose line held depth and beauty as it slowly led up to his crescent eyes adorned with thick, fanned out eyelashes. The white shirt contrasted against his tan skin that varied in shade, depending on the part of his body you were examining, and tattoos inked around his arms and biceps, making the model look sharper. His lips were full and covered with layers of neutral lipstick to keep out the slight purple tint. In fact, makeup was layered on his body to keep the slightly deteriorating tan in its bold colour.

The model's legs were thrown over an armrest carelessly, his left leg crossed over the right. The grey leather stuck out against the white drapes surrounding the scene in Niall's small complex studio. His right arm bent at the elbow as it rested on the armrest; his left arm was thrown over behind the body of the love-seat. Niall mumbled to himself as he rushed to the scene, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in the white sheet on the floor. He worriedly stuck the stained towel deeper behind the loveseat before stepping back and admiring the work.

"That's it."

The little photographer scurried across the room, only to stop at specific angles to snap one or two pictures before running over to apply more makeup to the model. He tweaked the position as if the model was a statue of wet clay he was sculpting.

"No, that's not right."

Niall moved the model's body, tilting the chin up slightly before stepping back more.

He admired the beauty that sat in the chair, his perfect work he complimented himself in a mantra, but it still wasn't good enough.

He tilted the model's head over slightly before reaching over and bending the elbow more on the right arm. Niall readjusted the lighting again to where the beam of light would hit the face more. Niall could see every line and dip in the model's face.

"Good," Niall whispered to himself.

He nearly tripped as he stepped back to admire his work again. Satisfaction beat in his heart before he ran around to take more pictures. His fingers cramped slightly, but he didn't stop until he took a generous amount of pictures that he could edit later.

"Alright, I'm going move you again."

Niall walked over to the model, camera looped around his neck and hands reaching for the body. He gripped the heavy torso, ideas of the model sitting up and bent over, elbows on his knees.

Niall mentally noted to himself that he'd need the metal cables to hoist the model if he wanted that position before he continued to lift the model. He let go of the model's torso and put his legs down on the ground, and then he reached for the torso again, trying once again to get the model to sit up, but the limp figure refused to cooperate. The body leaned on his small frame and sat heavily in the chair.

Niall thinks he's almost got it, but when he reaches around to get the cables, the elbows fall and the body hangs down over itself. Niall reaches gently for the head and lifts it up quickly in worry. The eyes are wide open this time, golden iris' empty of depth and staring at nothing.

Niall feels the unwanted liquid trail down his arm as it soaks into the once perfect white shirt the model was wearing. The liquid steadily drips out of the model's open eyes and curves downwards towards the dip of his nose.

Niall shrieks and tries to dab the liquid on the model's face, but with every swipe the colour removes the makeup and wrinkles the model's shirt, sending the perfect picture into desolation. Niall lets the body slump over itself again before he sighs heavily, camera still swaying in front of his chest.

"You ruined it all, Zayn," Niall whispered as he grit his teeth.

But, Zayn doesn't say anything back because he can't.

Niall sits the body up again; the blood has managed to roll its way down from his dead eyes and down to his chin. Niall rubs the stiff cheek of Zayn's, defeat on his face. He shoves the body further into the love seat, anger bursting in his veins. He screams at the body, taking his camera into his hands and slamming it repeatedly into the model worthy face of Zayn's.

The sound of the lens shattering off into his flawless skin irritates Niall; it almost fuels his brutal anger.

Zayn looked so, so perfect when Niall saw him out on campus. The way he walked had a perception of perfection and swagger. His smile was beautiful, not to mention his perfect canines, and his laughter when he was around his friends was addictive. Niall thought his movements were, too perfect to be true when he first saw him buy a bottled water or when he studied his textbooks in English literature, but his assumption proved to be false.

Zayn was absolutely perfect.

And, Niall made his perfection greater when he made him still and motionless to capture every moment of flawlessness he held in that face of his. But, now, Zayn had ruined it all.

The once perfect picture was ruined, along with Niall's crimson coated camera lens and Zayn's unrecognizable face. Niall would have to look for a new perfect model to complete his dreams, and he'd have to buy a new camera.

Niall sighs into his closed fist and turns his head, and, at the same time, a perfectly sculpted boy walks past his secluded studio on campus.

"Hi, Liam! I'm Niall, a still life photographer, and you look perfect for my next shoot."