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I looked at the screen, seeing us side by side for the first time. I hated the view. We looked good together. Her powder pink top was a pop of color against my black jacket, and her sunshiny smile made up for my frown.
This was a horrible idea. These photos would be forever. I'd look at them and always wonder what if; I had half a mind to get out of the booth. The first photo snapped, immortalizing us before I could move an inch.
Noah clapped with excitement.
I couldn't leave.
"What next?" She readjusted her arm so it was behind me.
"Anger?" I suggested. Wrong answer. Her bunched-up mouth and wrinkled brows were adorable. I laughed without thinking, and the camera flashed.
"Hey." She shoved my shoulder playfully. "You set me up."
I shook my head. "It looked good, Pastel. You look good."
Noah stared at me. "Careful, you're this close to complimenting me."
"I'll go one step closer," I promised, because I needed to let some of the energy out. Maybe it'd help me feel lighter. "You look beautiful."
I could feel her inhale as her mouth parted slightly.
"You always do," I added without looking away. "Always did…I think."
She scoffed, eyes still swimming with confusion. "You think?"
"I wasn't thinking about it before," I whispered. The camera snapped. We ignored it.
"But now you are?" she asked.
"I am. More than I want."
"What does that…does that mean?"
I gave her a one-shoulder shrug. "I don't know."
Her expression clouded, frustration on the horizon. "Then why the hell did you say it?"
"Thought it'd feel good," I confessed.
"Did it?"
"It did."
She shook her head in disbelief, a few twists falling out from behind her ear. Without thinking, I reached up to tuck them back, and my fingers glided across her cheek. She was as warm as I felt, and I had renewed hope.
"How does it feel for you?" I asked with my fingers lingering behind her ear. The camera flashed for the final time.
"Confusing," she whispered, gaze searching mine.
I swallowed and pulled my hand away. "So, bad?"
"No," Noah clarified quickly. "Not bad. Not good. Just confusing. Everything about this is confusing. Sage, you don't like anything about me."
"That's not true." God, that was so far from the truth now, it was laughable. I wasn't dreamy enough to forget everything we'd butted heads on; the things about her I’d originally disliked were still there. With context, though, I understood. Her over-helpfulness was an expression of how much she cared. What I saw as her being a know-it-all was her fear wrapped in the desire to prove her ability.
“I feel so silly for not understanding it before,” I said. “For not trying to understand.”
“Understand what?”
