I watched her intently, admiring the way her hair fell down her back and her eyes gleamed in the sun. I clutched the camera that hung comfortably around my neck.
I felt my stomach tighten at the sight of her, wanting to walk up to her and speak with ease. But I knew I couldn't.
All I could do was sit and watch her, admire her and desire her. My hand slipped on the surface of the object in my palms as they became clammy as my mind raced with scenarios of simply talking to her.
I'd walk over and smile at her, giving me the perfect view of her own. I imagined photographing her, and I thought about the idea deeply, believe me, but the idea seemed risky and stupid; someone would find out. I wanted to so badly to photograph her but I feared the end result wouldn't do her beauty justice. She was almost too beautiful.
The way her teeth shined when she smiled, I could hear her faint laugh from the distance, her hands fumbled softly with the cup sat in between her fingers. My heart thumped heavily behind the cages of my ribs at the sight of her.
The sun blinded me and radiated against my skin making me itch slightly. The crowded outdoors was hectic; the amount of people that were walking and talking increased as time moved on. People were busy, happy while I sat and watched her in my own separate world.
I instinctively rose my camera up to become level with my face. Whenever something looked right and photogenic, my first instinct was to capture the moment it looked the most beautiful. With her it was easy.
I used the dial to zoom in ever so slightly, capturing the features and detail on her skin. I noticed the faint freckles around her nose and the small scar on the side of her forehead. The moment she laughed and threw her head back, I captured the moment in an image. I grieve knowing I will never be able to catch her melodic sounds in a crystal clear photograph like this one.