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In Black and White

The camera Tony holds is black, expensive looking and suspiciously similar to the regulation field cameras but Abby is too distracted to really question it at the moment. Tony is kneeling nude at the foot of the mattress, uninhibited and refreshingly comfortable in his skin, semi-erect cock bouncing gently as he moves around, twisting the camera lens in and out of focus.

He grins at her like a Cheshire cat, eyes sparkling in the late Sunday morning light that pours through the bedroom window. Black boy-shorts with a bit of red lace on the back is all she has left on, the rest of her clothing having been slowly, teasingly stripped and thrown off the side of the bed.

Under his gaze she feels gorgeous, like an actress in one of those old silent films he loves so much and she wonders how he would feel printing some of these in black and white. She's a gothic Marilyn Monroe, all sex kitten as she trails her toes, the nails shiny with red lacquer and black polka-dots.
Then he's laughing again, zooming in on the evocative curve of her hip into her abdomen and loving the way the light plays through the shades, shadowing her skin.


In Full Color

The door slams against the wall as they stumble into the dirty club bathroom, Tony leaning heavily against her. Fumbling with the old swinging door and the cheap lock, they’re giggling drunkenly as the floor rises and falls beneath each unsure step and they half fall into one of the tiny stalls.

It’s too small and they're squashed against each other, pressed against cold, graffiti laden walls. Tony’s eyeliner is starting to smudge and the glitter from his hair is all over the finger she trails gently, repetitively across his bottom lip. Their laughter finally calms enough to allow them to catch their breath, just in time for her heart to begin pounding rapidly at his proximity. He smiles down at her and she’s lost in the moment, in how genuinely happy he looks.

A mix of screamo and punk vibrates in the background but in this little stall is their own universe where everything is muted and the air between them heavy. They're going to kiss, she realizes, giddy and overwhelmed by the thought but then he’s giggling again and she can’t help but start laughing back, the moment broken.
Out of his back pocket he pulls a thin point-and-shoot camera and twists her around, bringing her flush against his chest as he thrusts the camera out in front of them, pointed back. He's smiling with his face flush from exertion, glowing with life while her pigtails hang askew from jumping and her cheeks are pink with happiness. His tongue swipes against the shell of her ear and the flash goes off just as she shrieks.


In Sepia

2 a.m. on a Wednesday night and the case has been solved hours ago. The paperwork filed with i's dotted and t's crossed and the evidence bagged, logged and stored in the locker. The MPs will be down tomorrow to transfer their perp to a maximum security detention center.

They remained in the parked car in front of Abby's building, engine cold from sitting so long and windows rolled down to welcome the slight summer breeze. They're twisted in their seats to face each other, faces washed yellow and muted under the light from the lamp post across the street.

They're talking but the words are inconsequential and he can't focus on anything except how Abby sits with one knee drawn to her chest. One pale arm wrapped loosely around it, the other gesticulating wildly as she rambles. She is vibrant with energy and whenever she becomes this animated he is stilled by the realization of how lovely she is. Abby Scuito possesses a type of beauty which radiates from inside and spills outward. From how her elbows bend as she hugs you, to the child-like way she bounces when excited.

He wants to remember this night, this moment, forever. To capture it on film so he can always recall what an exuberant Abby was like. But a camera couldn’t possibly capture this strange swirling of emotions in his chest or the soft sound of her voice floating quietly on the air between them. So he'll remember it instead, pulling this moment deep into the recesses of his heart to be drawn upon later when he’s home and alone again.