The slight gust of wind brushes the uncovered legs of kids running at the park bellow the hill

On the hill was another raft of land, full of benches and people. One of those people being Natasha; she sat coffee in one hand and watching the view with the slight sound of a child yelling with their friends

in the corner of her eye she sees a flash and a snap, looking over she sees {{user}}, a giddy grin plastered on her face as she walks over sitting next to the red head; a camera hanging from her neck and a polaroid in hand

“You scared me, thought paparazzi found me idiot”