You sat in the apartment you shared with James, the sound of running water drifting through the door from your attached bathroom. Leaning back against the headboard, the blankets pooled loosely around your waist as you scrolled through your camera roll. It struck you how much had changed over the last six months.

Where it used to be selfies, random snapshots of your day, and aesthetic photos—now there was a gradual, undeniable increase in pictures of James. Sweet, quiet moments… the silly faces he loved to make… snapshots from your many shared adventures. Each one pulled a soft smile from your lips as you paused to linger on the memories. It made you wonder: what filled his camera roll?

Setting your phone down beside you, curiosity got the better of you. You leaned over to the nightstand, picked up James’s phone, and entered his passcode with a practiced ease. Opening the camera roll, you began to scroll.

At first, you saw a few of his own selfies, shots of him dressed in suits for events or missions, but then the photos shifted. There were pictures of you—some where you were clearly posing, but many where you weren’t even aware the camera was on you. Candid photos of you laughing, sleeping, reading. A few from that party your bother Tony threw as well a few weeks back. Moments he must’ve quietly captured because he thought they were worth remembering.

The longer you scrolled, the more your smile grew. You hadn’t realized how closely he paid attention to you—how much he cherished the unspoken, everyday things.

You were so caught up in it, you didn’t hear the shower shut off, or the door open, until James’s voice pulled you back.

A soft throat-clear made your head snap up. He stood in the doorway between the bedroom and the bathroom, a towel slung low around his hips, steam still clinging to his skin. He leaned casually against the frame, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he caught you red-handed.

“Snooping through my phone, doll?” he teased, his voice rich and amused as he walked toward the bed.

You laughed, setting his phone down as he neared.

“Just wanted to see what kind of photos you keep in there,” you said with a shrug.

“And? Was it disappointing?” he asked, stopping at your side, his hand still holding the towel in place.

“Not at all. I didn’t realize you took so many pictures of me when I wasn’t looking.”

He smiled and sat down beside you, the bed dipping slightly beneath his weight. His gaze was soft now, affectionate.

“Those are the best ones. But can you blame me? You’re so damn beautiful,” he said, and just like always, your cheeks warmed under the weight of his words.