Chapter 27: ♤Chapter 20♤

We finished most of my assignments. Rephrase—I finished most of my assignments. I couldn't have him do them. He did help me a lot though with things that I didn't know.

Despite how humble he is, he knows what he's doing when it comes to academics. Especially math. He knew almost everything when I asked and if he didn't, he'd look it up on the internet.

We mostly focused on worksheets and things that I could get done in one sitting. Stuff like papers or essays, I'm saving for later. I know I'm not going to get all of it done today but he said that he'd still help me. I just have to give him a date for when and if he's available.

Now, I was sorting all my papers by subject and what's done and what isn't because we were done for the night. And my mom has called me five times in the last hour, telling me to bring my ass home.

It’s not like she didn’t know where I was, it was just getting late and… policies.

“So organized,” I heard him say.

I looked up at him and shrugged with a smile. He was laying across the foot of the bed, watching what I was doing. He'd helped me out by giving me some huge paper clips to hold the papers together.

Suddenly he stood up and walked over to his desk, taking a camera from where it was hanging on the back of the chair.

I gave him a blank look, “Put that away,” I told him, looking back at the papers. I shook my head, seeing him lift it to his face.

He's a photographer. Maybe not professionally, but not long ago I'd stood on his bed and peered at the photographs that were pinned to lights hanging from the ceiling. I've seen him with the camera before but today was the first I've actually seen the photos he's taken and they were amazing.

He has pictures since he was in eighth grade, he says. That's when he'd gotten into photography. He got inspired when he went to an exhibit with his mom at that age. And he's been doing it ever since. He has pictures of everyone and everything in his life. Even his ex-girlfriend is still up there. He told me that he didn't feel anything for her like he once did but “those were great pictures” so he's not burning them.

“Tilt your head for me,” he said.

I groaned, “Noooo, leave me alone,” I whined, stacking my papers on top of each other according to what classes I have one after the other.

“Please?” He said lowly, walking around the bed, “You look beautiful in this lighting,” he said.

I turned to him, my eyes narrowing, “I'm beautiful now.” I retorted.

He chuckled behind the camera, cracking a grin, “Stunning,” he said playfully.

My smile slipped and I shook my head, turning back to my papers. I reached for my bag and heard a click. I laughed, looking over at him. Another click.

“You're so stupid,” I laughed as he grinned behind the camera.

He pulled it back, looking down at it and clicking through, “You know what light I wanna see you under?” He retorted.

“I dunno, which one?” I humored him, shoving the papers in my bag.

“These,” he pointed toward the ceiling, “they're orange lights,” he said, “I can just imagine your skin under them.”

I looked over at him, my eyebrows raised.

He cringed, “Was that offensive?”

I let out a small laugh before I could help it, turning back to my bag and zipping it up. Another click.

I looked over at him, “Are you serious?”

He held up his hands, the camera now hanging down his chest, “That was the last one.”

My eyebrows raised, “For now?” I asked.

He smiled and shrugged, “You ready to go?”

I made a face, crossing my less, “Honestly? Not really, but my mom's gonna be calling me again in the next five minutes so…”

He walked over to the door and flipped a switch. An orange glow fell over the room and I looked up, my mouth falling open in awe.

It was magnificent, how beautiful it was. The room wasn't completely dark seeing as the sun was still setting but it didn't make it any less impressive. There were a couple more clicks but I couldn't really care as I looked around, admiring how the lights gave the wood the most beautiful glow.

The bed dipped and I looked up at Chris standing over me.

“Can you-”

“Just one more,” he said, taking a couple steps toward me and holding the camera up to his face.

I laughed, “Can we just have a conversation or something?”

“How about some music?” He ignored me and I fell back, laughing, when he jumped off of the bed.

I don't know what he did but suddenly, music started blasting out of somewhere.

“The hell,” I muttered, searching for some kind of surround sound.

“They're built in,” he said, probably noticing that I was looking for them.

The rich shit then, huh?

He did a little run and and hopped on top of the bed, his feet getting lost in the fluffy covers as he stood over me again.

“Is this Charlie Puth?” I asked, looking back at him.

“Yup,” he said, tilting his head as he stared at me.

“Stop!” I exclaimed.

“I want one good picture,” he held up a finger.

“Weren't the other one's good enough?” I retorted.

“I need more effort.” He said.

I rolled my eyes, “Usually, it's the effortless photos that are the best,” I voiced.

“Yeah, well I want you to put effort into being effortless.” He said and I laughed, “Seriously,” he chuckled, “One picture.”

I sighed, “Fine.”

He grinned triumphantly, “Lay back?” He said.

I fell back on the bed, “Who even models with a sling on.” I said, shaking my head and getting comfortable.

He stepped over me, “You.” He dropped the camera so it was hanging down his chest and reached for something.

“Ugh,” I grunted, closing my eyes when he forced my glasses onto my face, “You're not shooting porn, Christmas.”

He busted out laughing, pressing his palm into the bed so he didn't fall on me.

“Is it really that funny?” I grinned.

“What do you know about porn?” He retorted, fixing my glasses.

I shrugged, “Nothing. I heard some guys talking about it once.” I told him, “Said they liked fucking girls with glasses on or watching it, depends I guess.”

He smirked, fixing my hair. They were in jumbo twists this time. Got them done when I took out my braids a couple days ago.

“Your mouth is filthy,” he said, tilting my head to the right and up, exposing my neck, “Relax.”

“Don't tell my mom,” I said dramatically, letting out a breath and did as told.

He chuckled, making his way down my body, “Okay.” He twisted the rumpled sheets around my body to his liking before he stood back up and brought the camera to his face, angling it and then clicked.

I stayed like that for a moment and he took as many as he wanted at different positions. At one point he was even kneeling next to the bed and I couldn't help but grin.

“You take this really seriously don't you?” I wondered.

He shrugged, clicking through the photos. He climbs onto the side of the bed, holding my gaze, with his hands pressed into the sheets, “Beauty is supposed to be captured right.”

“Is this what they call flirting? Are you flirting with me?” A slow grin slipped onto his face, “It's a genuine question.”

“You've never been flirted with before?”

I shrugged, “No.”

“Lies,” he said calmly, “You just don't know when they are.” He leaned back, his knee pressing into the mattress.

I made a face, “What-ever.” I sat up, ignoring his smug look, “Anyways, am I getting paid for this?” I looked up at him expectantly.

“I already did. I helped you with your homework.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and he grinned cheekily.

A knock came from the door. Chris looked over his shoulder and I leaned back, peeking around him.

His mother was standing in the open door. She'd changed out of her formal attire and was now wearing leggings and a knitted top with her hair up in a messy bun.

“Dinner's ready.” She said briefly.

Chris made a low sound, turning toward his mom, “Mom, you mind if I bring Ari home first?”

“She can stay for dinner,” she replies and my heart started thumping. Her eyes moved to me, “I'd like if you stayed for dinner, if that's all-right?” Is all she says, keeping my gaze until she turned away.

Chris turned back to me, smiling sheepishly, “Do you mind?”

I made a face that probably looked like I was constipated, “What did she cook?”