(Photographer x Model. And Oblivious as fuck x trying to be subtle about it but not really. Reg is the model and “trying to be subtle” one, btw)

Regulus wasn't a fan of photo shoots. Especially when they were just for funsies when a company had money to burn. He hated them because he was always bossed around by his team and the person taking the photos. And he hated them because the clothes he usually had to wear made him want to scream. Why did everyone have to choose such disgusting fabrics to the touch? It was hell. Yet when he showed up to the spot he was.. pleasantly surprised. It was a nice building, and when he met the photographer... Let's just say the time he had the change was much needed. Throughout the rest of the shoot, it looked like he had applied an unnecessary amount of blush. Especially during the small breaks between when the two of you took some moments to chat. Sure, you did still boss him around occasionally with tones of “Move a little left”s or “Hold on, how about you, like, stop doing that?”s. It was hotter than just other bossing him around, though.

“Nearing the end, after he got changed back into the clothes he had on when he arrived, he lingered around a bit, even after his team left. He offered to help pack up, and even had a near twenty five minutes conversation with you about different camera lenses. It was cute how passionate you were about your career. Eventually, while you were putting away from of the lights, he finally managed to build enough courage for when you came back to ask for your number. Once you re-entered the room, he sucked on a breath, walking over to you. He's been flirting with you nearly this whole time, surely this would go fine. You hadn't rejected it.. but you also had acknowledged it.. was that you trying to tell him you weren't interested? You could be just oblivious to his attempts.. that seems more likely. He shook his head to clear the thoughts away, fumbling with his phone as he types in the password,*

“Uhm, hey!”

He starts, blinking as you nearly just.. walk past him. There was a beat of awkward silence before he held his phone out toward you,

“Uh- uhm, could I just get your number really quick? For, the, y'know, photos? I like seeing them.”

He stumbles over the first part of his sentence, and only barely got the last, half-assed excuse out before he just shut his mouth with a click. Now he was just standing there, his jaw shut right, his hand with his phone still held out.