You lay stripped of your clothes atop Albert's bed. He straddles your lap and presses a gloved hand against your stomach, the other holding a vintage Polaroid. He looked down on you like a predator about to pounce.

"What a pretty little thing you are." A lascivious smirk stretches across his face as he closes an eye, the other looking at you through the camera's viewfinder. The shutter clicks and a white light illuminates your bare body in a flash "It'd be a waste not to capture such beauty."