flash photography // momotori au

i

((side note : the italics at the end of this chapter are nitori's thoughts))

nitori aiichirou is a photographer.
it originally started as a hobby, a way to pass the time, but soon he was captured like a picture, infatuated in his hobby which soon became his job.

ai loved all those small moments of beauty, sweet snippets of life, meaningful anecdotes, and he loved that he could catch it all in a single snapshot.
for him, it was magical.

despite not being the most professional, nitori's small, hipster style polaroid was his favourite camera. his most precious memories were taken on that same old, scruffy polaroid. even the last picture of his mother was taken on that camera before she died. the polaroid had basically become sacred to him since what happened.

***

nitori has a thing that he calls "projects" in which rows of brown string with photographs of a certain theme are hung on it are on the walls of his bedroom.
although ai lives in a small, cramped apartment (due to his photography job paying little) the pictures all around him manage to make the world around him seem larger and brings small smiles and sparks of hope to him.

now that his mother is dead, he didn't have anyone significant in his life.

or so he thought.

until a photoshoot request came from an overly-energetic redhead.

***

he was a sunshine boy.
red-orange hair.
orange-yellow eyes.
beautiful, yet blinding.
momotarou mikoshiba.

this was the boy who had requested ai.

nitori watched him from a distance, gazing at his figure and surroundings.

they were both in a field, filled with marigolds, the petals dancing with the breeze. this was the specific location momotarou had chosen.
momo was standing beneath a grand oak tree, leaves falling gracefully from it, he was leaning on the trunk and scanning the horizon. he was casually dressed in red converse, black jeans, a white t-shirt and unbuttoned flannel over it. gentle winds were swaying the boy's hair as ai looked at him.
ai didn't hesitate to take out his polaroid and snapping a quick picture before putting both the photo and camera in his light brown messenger bag.
he slowly approached the taller boy, conscious of his own appearance.

nitori was wearing a pale pink woolen jumper/sweater that was slightly oversized, causing the sleeves to cover his hands, accompanied with pale blue jeans and black pumps.

it was the middle of autumn/fall, so the leaves of the oak were a mix of caramelised oranges and browns, grass fading in colour and the noon sky a fazy shade scattered with clouds, yet still making room for the sun, rays shining bright with glory, peeking around the tree and lighting up the figure of momotarou.

'it fits him so well'

***

a/n: asdfghsgkjl this trash took me a while even though it takes like 30 seconds to read it pains yknow gah bye the next chapter's out soon i guess lmao