daily bread photos

The bulbs in the photo booth must be broken, Levi decides, the pop and fizzle of the first snapshot ringing his vision with frills of white even as the machine spits out a glossy square of Polaroid into the tray beneath.

The bulbs in the photo booth must be broken, Levi decides, because there’s no way that Erwin is on his knees right now, looking up with abject adoration and holding out something that looks suspiciously like a ring.

The bulbs in the photo booth must be broken, Levi decides, the light going to his head, because he’s nodding and then he’s wrapped up in tight arms and the soft cotton smell of Erwin’s coat, gold woven around his finger.