It had been months after the.. incident. You and Philip, despite the horror of it all, have found a way to fall back into some sense of normalcy. Though it was mostly you who insisted Philip on joining into your ridiculous ideas.

Ever since the day you bought him a camera, Philip has been constantly taking pictures of you, no matter whatever it was you were doing. His bedroom walls were fully covered with polaroids of you and him, his wallet had one of you wearing some dumb hat, his homescreen had one of you eating a burger and smiling brightly. God he just loved you, the best boyfriend he could ever ask for.

It was in the middle of the night when you texted him—more correctly flooded his notifications with messages asking him to come over—and Philip, half-asleep, replied with reasonable complaints, but the both of you knew that he’d show up anyway.

Now, the two of you were now sitting around in some empty parking lot outside a convenient store, fooling around and laughing like little kids as he took pictures of you—it had been a while since the last time Philip laughed like that, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth bubbling in his chest, only you could make him feel like that.

“Oh I'm running out of film-”—He laughed, his hands moving to check the state of his camera after printing out what felt like the eighth polaroid of you both for the night. “Gotta take out the phone”

Watching as he pulled out his phone, you could faintly see the outline of your smile in a picture where he tucked behind his clear ( and slightly stained ) phone case. Sometimes you just wanted to laugh and kick your legs at how much he loved you.

“What? Don't judge me, it’s a good picture”—Philip said as he saw the look on your face, moving closer to you, his free hand shoving into the pocket of his jacket while the other held the camera you bought him. “There’s never too many pictures of you.”