Through The Lens | ✓

7

That Sunday, I was planning on heading to the small cafe on 31st Street.

After being stuck indoors for a whole 24 hours, I was so ready to get out of the house.

I grabbed my purple bag and coat before rushing outside in to the bitter cold day. Snowflakes fell softly towards the ground, layering onto the mountains of snow that fell the day before.

I walked down the sidewalk, my boots crunching in the snow as I took each step. Shivering, I pulled my coat tighter around my body as the cold wind blew through my hair.

The cafe wasn't far from my house, thankfully. So it only took me a couple minutes to walk there.

I stopped in front of the cafe and ran a hand through my windblown hair before entering the warm building.

Inside it was warm and toasty, and the air smelled of coffee and baking treats. I walked to the counter and ordered a normal coffee and a croissant before going to my usual table.

Finlay Thomas was sitting with his leg crossed over the other at his usual table, a book settled in his lap. He was reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince that day.

I dropped my bag in one of the four seats at my table before sinking into my chair. Finlay took a sip from his mug before flipping the page of his book.

And one thing that crossed my mind was how did he finish all of this books in one day?

I placed my mug and croissant in front of me before pulling out my camera.  I turned it on, thankful that I had remembered to replace the dead batteries with new ones. I took the lens cap off and zoomed in.

The picture I snapped was perfection.

The window behind him showcasing the falling snowflakes was blurred, creating a beautiful background, his finger was flipping the page of his book, and his face showed so many emotions mixed into one as he read the words on the page.

But one thing I realized was that the photo wasn't perfection.

He was perfection.