Chapter Text
The notification had popped up on your feed, a small ad promising "Free Pet Photoshoots – Limited Time Only!" run by a local photographer. Your finger had hovered over the 'Book Now' button for a moment before the image of Everest, your majestic white Samoyed, prancing through the park, solidified your decision. Everest was, without a doubt, the most handsome dog in the world, and you were determined to have professional proof.
The address led you to a cozy studio tucked away on a quieter street, the scent of developing chemicals faintly mingling with something sweet, like coffee. You opened the door, Everest trotting in ahead of you, tail wagging like a metronome set to happy.
A man was adjusting a softbox light in the corner, his back to you. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a plaid shirt that stretched across him in a way that was undeniably… imposing. He turned at the sound of the door closing, and you were met with eyes the color of deep espresso, framed by faint lines that spoke of a life lived, perhaps a little too hard, but now settled into a quiet intensity. This was Joel Miller.
"Hey there," he said, his voice a low rumble that managed to be both gruff and incredibly warm. He had a slight beard, peppered with grey, and it suited him. "You must be… Olivia?"
You nodded, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "And this is Everest."
Everest, usually a social butterfly, let out a suspicious huff, his white fur bristling ever so slightly. He had always been particular, preferring the gentle touch of women to the sometimes-boisterous energy of men. Joel, however, didn’t seem fazed. He just offered a small, knowing smile.
"He's a handsome fella," Joel murmured, his gaze sweeping over Everest's fluffy coat. He knelt slowly, deliberately, not making any sudden movements, and produced a small bag from his pocket. "Got some salmon treats here. Might convince him to be my friend."
Everest's nose twitched, his suspicion warring with his love for anything remotely fishy. He edged closer, taking a tentative sniff, then snatched a treat with surprising gentleness.
"He doesn't usually take to men that easily," you confessed, watching the strange truce unfold.
"Some dogs just need a little more convincing," Joel replied, his eyes briefly meeting yours over Everest’s head. A spark, quick and undeniable, seemed to jump between you. "Alright, Everest, let's see what you got."
The studio was quiet, save for the hum of the heater and the soft click-whir of Joel’s camera. Everest was being a typical Samoyed—gorgeous, but incredibly stubborn. He had decided that the corner of the studio was much more interesting than the backdrop.
"He’s a tough customer," Joel chuckled, lowering his camera. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, looking ruggedly handsome in the soft studio light. "I think he’s onto my treat trick."
"Wait, I have a secret weapon," you said, reaching into your bag. You pulled out a well-worn, squeaky plush mallard. "He’ll do anything for the duck."
You moved over to the backdrop, kneeling right next to Joel. You were so close that you could smell the faint scent of cedarwood and coffee clinging to his flannel shirt. You held the toy just above the camera lens, giving it a sharp squeak.
Everest’s ears pulled forward instantly, his head tilting in that adorable, confused way only dogs can manage.
"Perfect," Joel whispered, his voice vibrating deep in his chest so close to your ear. "Stay right there. Don't move."
As he adjusted the dial on his lens, he finally looked away from the viewfinder and directly at you. Up close, you realized his eyes weren't just the dark brown you'd initially thought. They were a complex, weathered hazel, like sunlight filtering through a thick forest canopy.
In the dimness of the studio, they appeared as a deep, muddy olive, but as he leaned forward, the light caught the shards of amber and honeyed gold swirling around his pupils. They were intense, observant eyes—the kind that didn't just see a subject, but looked right through the layers of it.
"Oh! Um..." you stammered, leaning back slightly. "I didn't realize I'd be in the frame too. I would’ve actually tried to look presentable today if I'd known."
Joel lowered the camera slowly. The hazel of his eyes seemed to soften, the green flecks warming into a rich, burnt sienna as his gaze drifted over your features. A slow, lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"I’m lookin' right at you, and I don’t see a single thing that needs changin'," he said softly.
The air between you felt thick, charged with a sudden, heavy tension. You bit your lip, blushing furiously, and looked down at Everest, who had finally decided to sit perfectly still, sensing the change in the room.
"Right," Joel cleared his throat, though the warmth didn't leave his eyes. "I think we got the shot. You want to come take a look? See if any of 'em pass the test?"
Usually, these sessions ended with a quick "I'll email you," but neither of you seemed ready to say goodbye. You followed him over to a large wooden desk where a high-end monitor sat.
"Have a seat," he offered, pulling up a second stool.
You sat close—close enough that your knees occasionally brushed as he scrolled through the raw files. Seeing his work up close was different; he had a way of capturing light that made everything look soft and ethereal.
"I was only supposed to pick one for the free promo," you murmured, looking at the screen. There was a shot of Everest mid-bark, one of you laughing as Everest licked your cheek, and several of you just looking... happy.
"Take your time," Joel said, leaning back, his arm draped over the back of your chair. He wasn't looking at the screen anymore; he was watching the way your eyes lit up at the photos.
"I can't pick just one," you admitted, pointing at a shot where Joel had captured a rare, soulful look in Everest's eyes. "Or that one. Or the one of us together..."
By the time you were done, the "one free photo" had turned into seven.
"Seven," you laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I'm a pushover for my dog."
"It's not the dog," Joel said, his voice dropping an octave as he looked at the final selection—mostly photos where you were front and center. "You’re a natural. The camera likes you. I just happen to be the one behind it."
He didn't pull away. Instead, he lingered, his hand hovering near yours on the desk.
"I'll get these processed for you," he said, his voice low and private. "But... since you're such a good customer, maybe I could deliver the digital files over a coffee? To make sure they're exactly what you wanted?"
Everest let out a soft "woof" and rested his head on Joel’s knee, officially giving his blessing.
You looked from the dog to the man, your heart racing. "I think Everest and I would both really like that."