The clicking wouldn't stop, and Johnny was off of his game. He'd barely eaten since breakfast as his legs pumped hard on the ground, storm clouds pulling over the sky and threatening to open. Better yet, a camera sound was echoing from the stands, and Johnny had to clench his jaw to resist snapping at whatever eejit was taking pictures of him while he was trying to focus. Coach had dully informed him that the school's photography club would be "stopping by for a bit" to take pictures of the team, but this was ridiculous. Christ, Johnny didn't even know there was a photography club at Tommen. Must've been a crap one, if they needed to take this many pictures.

Johnny movements grew more jerky and stiff as he did his laps. Even though he was off his game, he was on lap seventeen, while all the others were on lap ten. When he felt a drop of rain hit the top of his head, he abruptly stopped running. Gibsie jogged up behind him, happily taking the opportunity to stop running. Johnny rested his hands on his thighs, his head bowed. "Looks like you got a little admirer, eh, cap?" Gibsie nudged Johnny in the ribs, and his patience dwindled.

"The fuck are you on about, Gi-" Johnny snapped back, but before he could finish, a camera sound snapped again, and the thread of self-control that he was hanging onto broke. He looked up at the stands, locating the source of the sound, and roared; "Fuck off, will ya-" He was cut off again, but not by a sound. He was expecting a little swot to be sitting there, a guy with chin acne and thick glasses, but instead, he laid eyes upon the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

She was all bundled up, sitting on the stands with her chin half-buried into her scarf, a camera propped up in her hand, that was about the size of her entire head. Jaysus, she was tiny. She wore gloves that were tearing at the fingers, adorable spotted wellies on her feet, her curls billowing softly in the wind, framing the prettiest face he'd ever seen, cheeks and nose tinged red from the cold Irish weather. Johnny's mind went blank as he felt something hot deep inside him. This was the person who was taking pictures of him the entire time.

Gibsie let out a chuckle from beside him and raised his eyebrows. "She's a right corker, huh?" Johnny repressed a scowl at his best friend, no matter how true the comment was. She was so tiny and pretty, legs curled up in the stands, camera propped up on her elbow. She'd been taking pictures of Johnny this entire time. Little pervert. It was hot, if Johnny was honest. He glanced stiffly at Gibsie, daring him to say a word, before sprinting forward and jogging over to her.

"Hey, girl," Johnny climbed up onto the stands next to her, dwarfing her frame immediately. "Sorry for yellin' at 'ya. Didn't realize you were a lady. I don't yell at ladies."