Page 16 of Oliver
They were perfect for our story, exactly what we needed to convince others of our budding romance. But what unsettled me wasn't the intimate shots of my hand on Zahra's cheek or our eyes connecting with soft gazes. It was the earlier frames—the ones capturing us laughing together, the ease in our postures, the genuine smiles. Two friends having lighthearted fun, stripped of pretense and calculation.
They showed a version of us I'd spent years trying to forget. A version that felt dangerously close to something real.
I swallowed hard, forcing my expression to remain neutral. "We should keep going; use the lighting to get more shots like this."
Professional. Detached. In control. I repeated the mantra silently as we repositioned ourselves, desperately trying to ignore how easily my defenses had slipped with one spontaneous moment.
"Now look up at him like he's just said something mildly amusing," Elena instructed Zahra.
Zahra gave me a look that communicated she found nothing about this situation amusing.
"That's..." I bit back a chuckle as Elena captured the moment. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Incorrigible or uncontrollable?” Zahra snapped back, and this time, her amused smile was real.
“You guys are a photographer’s dream,” Elena gushed. "I want one of Zahra alone, where you're looking off to the side, smiling to yourself so it looks like Oliver was taking shots when you weren’t noticing.”
“That’s clever,” I said, stepping aside.
I found myself watching her with unexpected appreciation. Zahra had always been photogenic, but there was something different about her now—a quiet confidence, a subtle elegance that hadn't been there when we were teenagers.
I was startled when someone pushed something into my hand. Elena. She’d handed me her camera with a knowing smile and gestured at Zahra, who seemed lost in thought and didn’t notice the silent exchange.
I lifted the camera, hesitating for a moment. Through the viewfinder, Zahra was transformed. The afternoon light caught her profile, illuminating the delicate curve of her cheek, the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth as she gazed across the park. I'd forgotten how expressive her face was—how a single glance could convey more than words.
Click.
She turned at the sound, and I caught the moment she realized I was behind it. Her eyes widened, lips parting slightly. For a second, she wasn't the polished businesswoman who'd hired me, but the girl I'd known who could never hide her emotions.
Click.
"What are you doing?" she asked, but there was no irritation in her voice, just curiosity.
"My job," I replied, but the words felt hollow. This wasn't part of our contract or one of the carefully planned interactions we'd agreed upon. This was something else, something that made my chest tighten in a way I didn't want to acknowledge.
Click.
She laughed, a sound I hadn't heard in years until our coffee shop meeting. It was fuller than I remembered, more confident. She didn't cover her mouth the way she used to, and didn't immediately glance around to see if she was drawing attention. This was Zahra on her own terms, and despite myself, I was captivated.
Click.
Through the camera's lens, I could study her without consequence, could notice the things I'd been deliberately avoiding—the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled genuinely, the small scar above her right eyebrow from when she'd fallen off her bike in sixth grade, the subtle tilt of her head when she was truly comfortable.
I lowered the camera, suddenly aware I'd taken far more photos than necessary. The professional excuse was wearing thin, even to myself.
"Did you get what you needed?" she asked, the question holding more weight than she knew.
I nodded, handing the camera back to Elena, who was watching us with barely concealed delight. “Shall we continue?”
We let Elena set the scenes, each one bringing us physically closer. According to my timeline, we weren't scheduled for any significant physical intimacy beyond casual touches today, something Elena was well aware of but seemed to be ignoring.
"Let's try to get some shots at the fountain," Elena suggested. "Oliver, stand behind Zahra with your hands lightly on her shoulders, like you're pointing something out in the distance. Zahra, shades off."
Zahra pushed her sunglasses into her hair, and I positioned myself as directed, keeping a professional distance while still creating the illusion of intimacy.
"Perfect," Elena murmured, circling us with her camera. "Now just turn your head slightly toward each other, like you're about to share a secret."
As Zahra turned, our faces were suddenly inches apart. Her eyes met mine, the last rays of warm sunshine reflecting in the green of her eyes, and something shifted in the atmosphere between us. The script I'd so carefully crafted seemed to dissolve as I found myself drawn closer, my gaze dropping to her lips that parted under my gaze. I was so close, I could feel her breath puffing on my mouth. Just a little more and I’d?—
