Adonis Line: Filth series by Dakota Gray

Author:Dakota Gray [Gray, Dakota]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

NINA

* * *

The next day I’m lowkey annoyed at how effortlessly handsome Tarek is. I dig my knee into the dirt to better frame him in the wooded area. The light cuts across his face, his arms. He looks like an avenging angel, with his profile set into hard lines and the other half softened by ethereal light. The sheen of sweat makes his brown skin glisten. The shutter of my camera fills the silence with its soft click-click.

Then he smiles, stops digging our pee and poop hole to direct his grin towards me. “Nina, for real?”

“What?” I say and try to capture the crook in his lips.

Without having to glance at the digital preview screen, I know I’ve captured the real Tarek. Outwardly he’s handsome. There’s no denying that simple fact, but he also has dark recesses. Those pitch-dark pits show a man who doesn’t deserve redemption. Those finger-dug holes go soul deep. Yet the light parts of him are filled with laughter and dirty words.

This is why I love photography. People are black and white and gray. There’s wrong and there’s evil. There’s right, righteous and pious. I now know where he stands, and he’s far from perfect. He has self-inflicted scars. Shit, he’s been a danger to himself and someone else, literally. I wonder what he's done to make amends or reconcile that boy with the man he is now. Can he?

I frame him again behind my lens for another shot, hoping to discover another layer of him, my eyes searching for every crevice the light does and does not hit.

Even though I can see him now, I can’t predict what happens next with Tarek. Being around him, with him like this is still bigger than me. I’ve dug my heels in to stay upright and alert, and it’s still not enough.

This should terrify me. This should throw me back on the path of focus. I’m out here in nature for my future, but there’s just a part of me that can’t wait to see what happens next.

Tarek pushes his shoulders back, filling the lens’ frame. I snap a picture.

He says, “You’ve already taken your pictures of your waypoint. You don’t need any of me to calibrate your camera.”

The fact he remembers my earlier excuse is why I hate him a little. “Stop looking cute,” is the only defense I offer.

His eyes close with his next laugh, and I capture that. My camera beeps telling me I’m close to my memory’s limit. I sigh and stop. It’s a bad habit of mine to take way more than what I need. I’m greedy that way. Also, one never knows what lackluster picture can turn into a showpiece after a few rounds of Photoshop.

And to be honest, I want to see Tarek. Everyone is revealed behind my lens. I’ve yet to meet a person who can hide behind it, except for me. All I can see is the Tarek I met in the gym, the one who demanded we talk and fuck, the one who stretches every morning and night—Tarek.

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