The sharp and acrid chemical smell of his black room solvents had imbedded themselves into Nate’s hands and clothing. He knew he smelled rather wicked and not in the good way, but he couldn’t give two twitches of a cat’s tail of a damn about that. Instead he was filled with a wonderful sense of satisfaction and the grin on his face hurt in the best way. Between work, dodging his family, painfully avoiding his best friend’s family and trying not to fail school, it had taken Nathaniel nearly three days to get the proofs of Ophelia’s pictures developed. He’d chafed at the time delays but there was nothing he could do to regain that precious time. But it was going to be worth it. He could tell. Because the photos he had taken proved to be even more than Nate had expected them to be. Ophelia captured in her glory, the edge of her sickness giving her a rawness that did nothing to diminish her internal power. And it all showed in the picture Nate was going to blow up into a full portrait for her. And he had been right, the LAST thing you noticed in the picture was her lack of clothing. What you noticed first were her eyes. Amongst the pale whiteness of her skin, the furs, the feathers and the crystal shimmer, you would expect the nearly blood red rose petals to claim dominance but even those came in a far distant second to the fathomless blue of Ophelia’s eyes.
The fact that Opi was actually smiling in the picture only added to the shock of its stunning nature because she smiled so rarely and yet it was a true expression. There was nothing at all forced on her face and her body posture looked entirely natural. In another life Nate could easily imagine Ophelia James being a professional model; she just had that natural aura. Grace had that same natural poise, but only if she was unaware of the camera. It was like her being so clumsy. She was fine if she wasn’t aware of what she was doing, but the moment she tried to think about it, out came the injuries. She was such a clod! An adorably cute one, like a baby giraffe. Nate laughed at the mental picture he had of her, and a little at himself because despite his best efforts, he was still unable to keep the gangly red head out of his thoughts. Diving into work and the photo project of Ophelia had done absolutely nothing to stop him from being head over heels for her. It was pathetic and yet Nate was still satisfied with being a fool for her. He just wistfully wished that there was a way to go back in time and smack himself up the back of the head before he’d ruined everything.
His cell phone buzzed in his pocket but he couldn’t use it while in the dark room. The chemicals were photo sensitive, thus the specialized red light in the room, so whomever it was, was going to have to wait. The irrational part of Nathaniel’s brain suddenly got jittery, hoping it was Grace calling after their three days of silence. When did you become a chick? Nate insulted himself, trying to squash down the adrenaline that decided that this was the perfect moment to run amok in his blood stream. He had to try and force his body to calm down so his hands wouldn’t shake while he handled the delicate papery of his craft. Sure, there were lots of photographers whom had gone fully digital and their works were still quite stunning, and Nate did have the digital back up of everything he shoots, but he loved working with the older fashioned cameras and film. It had a texture and quality to it that laser printers and digital media couldn’t seem to capture or convey.
After viewing the proofs he had developed, it was time for Nate to try and enlarge the one he wanted so that it would be a dominating piece in Ophelia’s room. Westley might kill him for it, but Nate was still satisfied that he had done this for her. It surprised Nate that he wasn’t worried how Grace would take this picture, but then again, he knew her artistic side and she was the kind of person to see the art, not the nudity. Like Venus de Milo or the statue of Aphrodite, the incidence of skin was secondary to the effect of the whole beauty.
His phone buzzed again and Nate gritted his teeth, anxiety spiking as he had to wait to see what was so important. He was at a critical stage of the development process and couldn’t interrupt it for long, or else he’d have to start all over, and there wasn’t time for that kind of delay. Pulling on his limited patience, Nate ignored the text messages that were on his phone and focused on the task at hand. When the enlargement sections were processed and ready, he carefully layered it all together on a large backer so that they were supported and it became impossible to tell that they were once individual sections. Finally he could store it for drying and setting, scrub the chemicals off of his hands and slip out of the processing room to check the messages on his phone.
YOU ARE READING
Aces Wild (House of Cards Series 4)
Teen Fiction(Sequel to Queen of Spades/King of Hearts stories) Nathaniel Vega grew up in a less than conventional family. His mother and father had once been student and teacher, his best friend was also his adoptive sister and his family seemed to include peop...
