The streets were unusually dull this day, nothing at all was speaking to Hux. He hadn’t even taken a single picture yet. Growing bored, he decided to stop at a coffee house for a drink.
The first thing Hux noticed when he walked in was not the smell of coffee or the long line. No, the first thing Hux noticed was the dark haired man sitting alone in the corner writing away in a notebook.
His look of concentration, deep in thought, the way his large brows furrowed together, how his full lips pouted a bit, how he seemed too large for his chair and yet fit perfectly. It was captivating.
Without thinking, Hux lifted up his camera and snapped a shot. The composition, the lighting, the focus, it was all perfect. Hux couldn’t wait to return home and develop it. He didn’t even want to fill the roll, unless it was of this man.
When Hux looked back up, the man was staring straight at him.
Hux froze. He never does things like this, taking pictures of strangers. He is terrified that the man will get angry or demand him to destroy the roll of film.
“Well,” the man said, in a deep rich voice that made Hux’s knees weak. “Do I at least get to see it?”