chooses not respond, and just looks at his best friend awaiting her response.
With a sigh, she begins. "We were out at a bar with his friends. He started flirting with girls nearby and when I called him out on it, he started making all kinds of rude and disrespectful comments. The worst being when he compared me to the other girls at the bar. When I finally asked him to stop, he took it as a joke...a fucking joke!"
She paused for a second to try to regain her composure.
"Then, he turned to the guys as if I wasn't there and began mocking me for it. Saying things like 'she wishes she looked THAT good.' I finally got fed up with it and told him I wasn't putting up with it anymore. He just laughed. So I told him we're through and walked out."
"And you walked home? In the rain?!" responded, flabbergasted. "Why didn't you call me?"
She sighed. "I was so upset, I didn't even think about it. He just acted like I wasn't even there." Quickly changing the subject. "Why do you play with that damned camera so much? If it's so important to you, why don't you use to photograph things other than your car, cats, and gardens?"
"You know this camera is special. It was Poppy's. I can't just use to to photograph anything or anyone. I'm saving it for someone truly special." He tries to defend himself.
continues to browse through his models folder, looking at the images of various women. "You'd photograph someone like me. I'm nothing like these women who've modeled for you."
"The only reason I don't photograph you is because you hate having your picture taken!" He vainly attempts to refute her logic. "You're perfectly beautiful, dude."
She wants to laugh, but instead hangs her head down and slightly to the left.
*Click* snaps a photo of her. She looks up and glares at him.
"See! You don't like it!" He jokes.
"I just wasn't prepared. And remember, I 'look like shit.'" Repeating his words from earlier in the evening.
gets out of his chair and sits next to her on the sofa. Fully expecting her to move away, he is quite shocked when she rests her wet head on his shoulder. She then clicks on a folder labelled "Annette." |