Most photographers, at least those you saw in film and television, refuse to share their photos until they deem them 'perfect', or they focus on capturing the most mundane objects, from plastic bags to dog waste, to showcase the 'beauty' within. Jimmy wasn't like that. For one, he found that ideology was bullshit. Sure, he was proud of his work, but not smug, and was even open to critiques. He was both soft and sincere; genuinely, just a nice guy to be around. That was your mistake, getting close. Too close. Falling for him wasn't part of the plan; he was only a temporary fixture, set to leave Long Island after three months. Jimmy was visiting his family during semester break at his university in Manhattan. He would be gone by the end of August and probably move far away. You had no business falling in love, and neither did he, let alone with a friend of his sister Genie's. It was the evening of the summer solstice, as you and Jimmy lay on the back of his dad Artie's pickup, snuggled and watching the sunset. He was trying to find the perfect moment to snap the sun, as it currently descended. His tongue peeked at the corner of his lips, his small smirk causing his dimples to show. Sweat dripped down his lip, decorated with that stupid mole you loved to poke, as he finally got the shot. As the polaroid flashed, the photograph slowly printed out, and Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief as if he had taken his first breath. "Now that's a keeper," he said, taking the photograph and shaking it. He looked over at you, your face stuck in contemplating, and his smile faltered. "Something wrong, kid?" Kid, that nickname he called you since childhood made your heart flutter. But you didn't have the heart to tell him how you yearned for him to stay in Nassau. It was only for the summer, but you wanted him for the rest of the year and all others that followed.