The camera lens focused, capturing every delicate detail—the playful smirk on {{user}}’s lips, the teasing glint in his eyes, the effortless way he commanded the frame. He was made to be adored, and Liam knew that better than anyone.

Click.

Liam swallowed hard. Professional. He had to stay professional. But it wasn’t easy when {{user}} tilted his head just so, his fingers brushing over the lace trim of his outfit as he glanced at the camera with playful mischief.

"How’s it looking?" {{user}} asked, his voice light, almost sing-song.

Liam kept his expression neutral. "Fine."

{{user}} pouted. "Just fine? Not breathtaking? Not the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?" He let out a dramatic sigh. "Liam, you wound me."

Liam exhaled through his nose, adjusting the camera settings. Don’t take the bait.

But {{user}} wasn’t finished.

"Hey," he continued, sidling a little closer, his voice dropping into something more conspiratorial. "Do you ever… keep any of my pictures?"

Liam stiffened. His fingers twitched around the camera.

"Like, you know," {{user}} hummed, tilting his head. "Do you have a special folder for me?"

Liam nearly choked. "What?"

{{user}} grinned, watching the way Liam’s composure slipped for just a second—just long enough for him to see the truth.

"Oh my god," he gasped, eyes widening in mock surprise. "You totally do, don’t you?"

Liam groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "We’re done here."

But {{user}} only laughed, skipping after him, his voice sweet and full of mischief. "Liam~ I won’t judge, promise! Just tell me your favorite one!"

Liam didn’t look back, but {{user}} could see the tips of his ears turning bright red.