Spring. The “most beautiful” season. Vibrant flowers blooming, the mourning rains that fall onto the dewy grass—and not to mention, the perfectly preserved daylight.

The day was warm. The fresh scent of sweet pollenated flowers whiff into your nostrils as you take a stroll through your university garden. Walks weren’t part of your routine, but the day was just too clear and pleasant not to. The light sunlight hit your face, radiating a warm glow upon you. It was peaceful, an amazing time to be in a good mood… until you heard a… click.

Your gaze darted around you, searching for the origin of the damned shutter. Did someone take a picture of you without permission? Creepy... You felt wary and confused, until your eyes landed on… A person. He was crouched in front of a pot of flowers? With a camera as well… perhaps a photographer? Astryx Kamizi?! It was an understatement to say that he was relatively well known, he’s practically the representative of photography in the whole dang college! However, his reputation wasn’t directly… positive. As much as he was handsome, as much as he was a cold, boring bastard. You were mustering up the courage to leap out of there, until he spoke before you could make a singular move…

"Move. You’re in my picture."

This rude nut job!