Photos

                                    

                                          
Shutter.
Click.
Shutter.
Click.
Shutter...
Click...
                          
The camera's noises were growing more annoying by the second. I hated being photographed, I hated being forced to smile, I hated those stupid camera noises.
                          
"Smile!" I heard the photographer saying cheerfully to a woman and her child.
                          
The child started crying when the man snapped a photo. "WAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
                          
And I thought I hated pictures.
                          
"Shh, Milo, it's just a photo. Nothing to be afraid of..." The mother cooed, rubbing his back soothingly.
                          
Milo sniffled and rubbed his nose.
                          
"Do you want a lollipop?" The photographer offered gently. "If I give you this, will you smile for me?"
                          
Milo nodded enthusiastically, reaching out to the lollipop. The photographer placed it in his outstretched hand, and it....
                          
Dropped.
                          
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Milo cried. "I WANT MY LOLLY!"
                          
"Okay, sweetie, here's another one." The mother had taken another lollipop from the photographer, unwrapped it, and popped it into Milo's mouth.
                          
The photographer smiled, almost uneasily. "Okay....now, smile!"
                          
-&-&-&-&-&-
                          
"Oh my gosh," I said, flopping onto the couch. "I hate photos."
                          
Matthew sat down next to me. "But why? They're used for memories. What you've done in the past. I can guarantee your parents showed you pictures of yourself as a baby."
                          
"Yeah, but I still hate them." I slumped into the pillow. "Whatever. I'm not going to spend the day thinking about this."
                          
Matthew flipped open his notebook. "Anna, do you have any homework?" 
                          
"No. You?" I asked, laying my head against a pillow.
                          
"Yeah. Tons."
"Good luck."
"Mmmhm."
                          
Minutes ticked by as I stared at the ceiling, watching the fan go round and round. It was quite entertaining when you were bored.
                          
Click.
                          
I whipped my head around to see what had made the noise. "Matthew! I told you I hate pictures! You better delete that." I warned.
                          
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he scrolled through his pictures. "But look how cute you look!"
                          
I glared at the photo. It was of me here, sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the ceiling, with a smirk playing on my lips. "Delete it. Now."
                          
He sighed. "Fine. There. Deleted."
                          
"Good."
                          
"I'm done with my homework."
"It's amazing that you think I care."
"Meanie."
"Strange boy."
"You should have homework."
"Lucky me."
"It's not fair!"
"How old are you? Two?"
"No, I'm three."
                          
I rolled my eyes. "Go be a pest somewhere else."
                          
"Feisty. I like that."
                          
"Oh my gosh, go away!"
                          
"Love you too."
                          
"Shut up."
                          
"No, you shut up."
                          
"Oh my gosh. You have the mentality and knowledge of a four year old."
                          
"I thought I was a two year old?"
                          
"Well, you said you were three. It's officially the minute you were born. Happy birthday."
                          
"But I was born at 5:57-"
                          
"Don't care." And with that, I went to my room.
                          
-&-&-&-&-&-
I giggled to myself, reminiscing the events of earlier. The talk Matthew and I had, I admit, was funny. I was digging my nails into my palm to keep from laughing.
                          
"Boo!" Matthew squeezed my shoulders, and I jumped. "Haha, I got you!"
                          
I kicked him in the shin.
                          
"Ow!" Matthew cried, grabbing my foot. Crap.
                          
"Wait, wait, Matthew, I'm sor-AHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAT THE BAHAHAHASE OF THEHEHEHE TOHOHOES! PLEHEHEHEASE!" I squealed in laughter as he scribbled his nails underneath my toes and across the middle of my sole, my worst spots.
                          
"Vengeance!" Was all he said as he continued his merciless torture on my poor footsie.
                          
I fell back on the bed and closed my eyes as tears leaked out of my eyes. "NOHOHOHO, PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!"
                          
"Fine. Only because you said please." He stopped his assault, grabbing me around the waist and spooning me.
                          
Dang...when someone spooned me- or called me baby girl- I melted. 
                          
I blushed and put my hand over his arm, as he delicately traced my side, while I giggled lightly. 
                          
"I love you Matty."
"Mmmhm." I got a mumble and a slight snore in response, as he drifted off to sleep, his head on mine.
                          
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Author's Note: OMG everyone! Almost 1k views!
                          
*Cue loud ear piercing squeal*
                          
Thank you everyone! ♡♡♡