Pose | Fuenciado

15

 *yet another chapter brought to you because @JustMakingThisForVic is seriously the best person ever*

 It's been a long few weeks. My time is consumed by taking pictures, editing pictures, and Vic. We've been practically living together, sometimes at his apartment, sometimes at mine. Most evenings we spend in each other's vicinity. Even if he's off conditioning his hair or whatever he does and I'm throwing hours away editing and browsing through photographer's blogs. 

 I'm sitting in Vic's living room, cleaning lenses. He had gone out to pick up food he ordered a while ago, he'd been going on about teriyaki chicken all week. We've both been busy. It's nearing winter and for some reason this time of year is the busiest for models and photographers alike. 

  Working for Lewbra has really kept me on my toes. Constant inflow of shoots and deadlines for pictures. It's a lot of work, but seeing my photography in advertisements and such is a really big confidence boost. 

 Vic has had a lot of shoots, too. Although he's the one in front of the camera. I like to go with him when I can, talk to the photographer. But it's also fun to watch Vic be transformed from my casual and carefree boyfriend into a completely other character for a photo shoot. 

  "I'm home!" Vic's voice carries through the apartment, along with the sound of the front door firmly closing. 

 "Hi." I say as he appears at in the living room. In his hands is a white plastic bag, and the smell of the food is quickly overtaking the area. 

 He smiles and sets the bag on the table next to my feet, sitting down on the couch, too.

 "Get your gross feet off my table." He pokes my socked foot until I move it, a cheeky grin spread across my face. 

 "Plates?" I ask after Vic is satisfied with my foot placement on the floor. 

 "Nah, I got forks." Vic's face is serious as he unpacks the bag, setting three Styrofoam take out containers on the table. He tosses out two plastic forks before crumpling he bag in his hands and throwing it on the ground.  

 "What did you get?" I lean forward and set the camera lens on the edge of the table, hopefully it won't get covered in Chinese take out. 

 "That's rice, this is my chicken, and the other one is some special soup. It was on special, so." Vic shrugs as he points to each box. I glance at him, fiddling with a lid and failing to open it, with a small smile. He's just so cute. 

 "So what's on the agenda tomorrow? You have a shoot, right?" I ask as I pop the lid off the soup container. It smells delicious, like some sort of curry. I'm pretty sure Vic went to more than one restaurant, I don't think these dishes come from the same country. 

 Vic nods, his mouth full of chicken and rice. He swallows quickly and answers my question.

 "Yeah, just a shoot, nothing big." He says. I find that a little off putting, usually he recites the entire outline and theme. He's always so excited for photo shoots, but he seems more reluctant about this one. 

 "You don't seem very excited." I state as I shovel in more soup, for a cheap special, it's pretty good. 

 "It's nothing." Vic shrugs off my concern. He's refusing to look me in the eye, and he's a terrible liar. He's also really bad at avoiding topics. Vic is a very opinionated and open person, something is definitely wrong when he won't talk about it. 

 "Vic." He knows I know he's avoiding something. 

 "I said it's nothing, Jaime." He says sharply. I'm a little offended by his attitude, I'm only trying to help him out. I angle myself slightly away from him. He's looking down at his chicken, his body language sending out warning signs. He's no longer eating, just running his fork along the edges of the box. 

 Vic's not a moody person. He's not a quiet or stressed person. What is he right now? Moody, quiet, and stressed. And it seems to be all about the shoot tomorrow. He's never like this about his job, as far as I know, he's always going on about how much he loves it. 

 I guess I'll just give him space, he doesn't seem to want to talk about it. But him like this, even though it;s not really that bad, worries me. It's just so out of character. It fills my stomach with waves of anxiety. 

Neither of us say anything as Vic sets his dish down and stands up, walking out of the room. His footsteps fade as he heads towards the bedroom, everything is quiet after the door slams shut. 

 What the hell has his panties in a twist?