The Photographer and The Florist: A PerayaAU COMPLETE

The Photographer and The Florist: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Now tip your head to the left, just a little. There. Perfect." The camera raced through several continuous shots of the latest customer. After three years, his business had a steady flow of patrons both new and old. His reputation preceded him, and many of his customers were referred. He adjusted the lens and took a few more photos of the woman, before stepping back from the tripod.

"We are finished now." He began cycling the photos to the computer software program, and left it to download as the bell dinged over the door. "All we need now is to finish the paperwork. Here is my lovely apprentice who can finish you up."

Macy dropped her bags behind the desk. "Bugsy having his usual session, Mrs. Yana?" She was an older lady that took pride in her Scottish Terrier. The dog was well behaved so there was usually no problem. Prachaya Studios was versatile in its subjects, be it human, animal, vegetable, or mineral or anywhere in between.

Mrs. Yana laughed, "Not this time. I had to get pictures this time. I want to look good on my passport! I am not just about to submit any old thing!"

Macy glanced at Singto. Didn't Mrs. Yana know that it had to be a standard photo and most of the time a professional studio sitting was not required for a passport picture? He glanced over and caught Macy's look and returned it with an eyeroll. There was no explaining to some.

"Ah, alright. Come this way and we will get you taken care of."

Singto let Macy take Mrs. Yana away and went back to his computer. He would have to put in some time to finish getting a package ready for Mrs. Yana by Friday, in addition to the two others that had come in during the day for scheduled appointments. Photography was a passion, so he hardly considered it work. He was unaware that nearly an hour passed without his knowledge, and did not even register when the bell sounded over the door out front.

"P'Sing?"

"Hmm?" He didn't look up from the photo he was editing, trying to see if it needed more brightness or contrast in the white balance in order to make the subject stand out more. He wasn't happy with the raw photo and the edits were not helping either. Perhaps he should choose another and just leave this one alone.

"There's a...delivery for you." It was more the way Macy breathlessly spoke rather than what she said that caught his attention and made him look up to see his blushing apprentice. Macy rarely got flustered, so this was unusual. Deliveries were common, because he was always getting different supplies coming in and he had recently ordered some new chemicals for his dark room. She was always flirting and making friends with whomever walked through the door.

She mouthed the words, "O.M.G. YOU HAVE GOT TO SEE HIM!" before clearing her throat to speak aloud again. "You have to...sign for it I think."

Raising his eyebrows before furrowing them, "Just a moment." That was weird; normally she would do the signing. Good thing that he had learned the art of reading lips. It had become by far one of the handiest of the oddball skills he had picked up. It didn't work so well with foreigners though. He saved his editing progress as Macy went back out into the reception area.

"He will be with you in a moment."

"Thank you." The voice attached to this mystery person was almost musical, as though he had vocal training. That much Singto could pick up from just the timber of the voice. As he came into the office, Singto stopped dead still as though he had been given electric shock therapy. His eyes widened, unable to blink, like a shutter open for night photography to retain the image to its minutest detail. All sense of reality faded around him except the man in front of him.

The man was beautiful. There was no other word for it. The hair swept off his face in a windblown tussle that was appealing. His face was a beautiful complexion of symmetry. His skin looked flawless to the untrained eye, but to his photographer's eye, the tiny imperfections gave character. He had what looked like a small scar on his right cheek, possible remnants of a misspent youth, but it did not detract from the man's magnetic pull. His body was hidden by comfortable yet flattering clothing. It was when he made eye contact that the very breath was stolen from Singto's lungs, causing his heart to speed its palpitations. They were so expressive and deep; it was though he had ripped out Singto's soul and was examining it at his leisure. The smile that accompanied was his complete undoing.