The Art of Kissing

7; Charmer

Monday rolled around and I was groggy and tired when I walked straight to my usual table to sit with Elliot, though he surprised me with what he was now doing, he sat at the table with a laptop in front of him and a coffee cup next to him, he smiled in greeting when he saw me standing there. 

"Hey," he mumbled, taking a  sip of the drink and going back to his work in silence. 

"Hey, " I replied, peeking at what he was doing subtly, or so I thought. 

"No need to be sneaky, friend," he told me, turning his computer to face me and showed me what he was doing. 

I looked at him with a blushing face, taking in his smirk and mischievous expression, then to the screen with a look of awe. "I'm looking at what photos I want to develop. " He told me.

"They're all very beautiful!" I gushed, I leaned in closer, my breast accidentally brushing across his forearm from the position I was in. "Thank you," he muttered and momentarily looked at me.

I realized just how close I was to him and slowly moved away, turning my attention to his photography. 

Elliot skimmed through his pictures slowly, allowing me to thoroughly look at each one. 

The first picture was beach scenery, the water was calm and almost transparent, the sand was a golden colour with seashells scattered and buried under the surface. The sunset is one of the most breathtaking things I've ever seen and I couldn't even imagine how heavenly it looks in real life, the sky was light blue but darker shades of red, purple, pink and orange. In the background, there's a cliff with lush vegetation and it's an overall vibrant photograph. 

The second is a photo of a field of wild sunflowers, the sky is bright and alive, perfectly white clouds floating and the sunshine beams down on the lens from the left corner. The more I look at the picture I see that Lisa is in the cluster of flowers with a straw hat on her head, protecting her pale skin and a cream coloured lace dress. 

Her hands are thrown up in the air and it looks like the picture is caught while she's mid-spin. 

The last photo I look at is so unlike the other two, where those two are captivating and colourful, this one is dull and almost lifeless.

it's an old and beaten down bench that's unused as a large crowd of people walk by in the pouring rain, you can't see any of their faces except for one; he's a little boy who's frowning with glazed over eyes as he holds what the viewer could assume is his mother.

The child's hair is slicked back and the woman's body is slim and elegant, she looks like she's making powerful strides in the frame; another individual is walking their small Yorkie and everything is captured in dark and white, the bare trees and hollowness of this picture make it eerie.

 "This picture seems so, " I struggle to find the right words to not disrespect his profession. 

"Lonely?" I say uncertain, I notice a vulnerable glimpse in his eyes before he moves away. 

"It's supposed to be, " he tells me, scanning my face for a minute in silence and then sighs. 

"It was taken in New York, I took it last year when I was visiting my family there. " He tells me. 

I hesitate, my eyes flickering across the screen, before I scanned him, "do you feel like that?"

He diverted his gaze from me to his keyboard, his shoulders stiffening and jaw tensing tightly. 

I reached out to rub his shoulder, unsure if that's the right thing to do but I assume that it is because he seems to relax and let out a breath, "sometimes. . ." Elliot replies gloomily.