She gave him her heart. Her insides. Everything she had. When they were finished she existed only as liquid. Spunk and sweat and blood. Vincent’s blood under her nails. She’d dug her nails so deep into his back she was surprised they were still attached to her fingers.
Vincent stood above her, his back to her. The blood was so fresh and vibrant it almost looked fake, like a hokey B-horror movie effect.
Against the scars, it looked especially misplaced.
She averted her eyes. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
He chuckled. “Hey, I’m supposed to say that. Did I?”
“Did you?”
“Hurt you?” Vincent crouched in front of her, turned her face back to him with his hand on her cheek.
His touch was tender. Jacqueline saw that his pupils were so dilated that they took over the whole iris. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”
She wasn’t sure if he could.
“Can you stay perfectly still, Jacqueline? Just for a few minutes?”
She was caught off guard and agreed without thinking about it. Vincent ran off somewhere into the studio, no shirt and with his pants threatening to fall since they remained undone. Whatever he needed her to stay still for must be important.
He came back just as quickly, and she saw what was so important.
A camera.
“Do you mind if I…?” He held it out as if to shoot her.
She was embarrassed, but she couldn’t say no. “Who am I to stop you?”
“The most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
The camera flashed.
“You can stop with the empty flatteries, you already got me into bed.”
Another flash.
“Technically, I got you onto floor.”
“Shut up!” Her hand searched for the nearest object to throw at him.
Her bra hit him right in the face and plopped limply to the floor at his bare feet. Vincent stooped to pick it up and dangled it in his hand. “I’m keeping this.”
Her indignant expression was captured in another flash. He laughed.
The pictures turned out beautifully. He was proud of himself. They would serve as the perfect memento. Proof of how well his plan was going. A trophy.
Just like what they’d done to him.
Vincent wondered if Jacqueline kept any of the photos from that night. He had no idea what happened at the party after they were taken. The aftermath of his embarrassment. He’d left so quickly. Did the girls laugh at him at school the next week? Were the photos plastered all over the school? Were they disappointed when the object of ridicule never returned?
He shook his head. Better not to dwell on it. The photos of Jacqueline in his studio, though…
These weren’t shameful photos. Things to be embarrassed by. For either of them. Truthfully, he hadn’t even planned on taking pictures. But when he looked at her there on the floor, with the fading light playing against her just right… he picked up his camera without thinking. He needed to photograph her. To capture the memory. Capture her.
The artist in him took over during the developing process. He’d kept them monochrome, a sumptuous blue that softened the skin and deepened the shadows. Vincent wasn’t sure if it was because the photos were actually good or because it commemorated phase one of his plan, but it felt like some of his best work.
He sent them over to Aubrey for a second opinion. She congratulated him on breaking his dry spell. At his embarrassed sputtering to reply, she’d laughed.
“I meant on the photography. I know you’ve had some nasty artist’s block for awhile there.”
“Oh, yeah thanks. I’m glad that’s finally over with. It was really hard fo-”
“Yeah I’m sure it was really hard.” She cackled at her own joke.
“Aubrey,” he groaned, “I would appreciate it if you would pick a conversational lane here. Are we talking about my art or are we talking about my dick?”
“I’m open to both,” she paused for a second. Vincent knew she was going to say something crass again and prepared himself, “which is probably what Jacqueline said when you guys got down and dirty in the studio.”
“You’re so funny. Do you think the photos turned out okay? I need someone else’s eye for this. I’m a little too close to the subject.”
“Oh, I thought you sent me these to rub your new relationship in my single face some more. These are beautiful, Vinnie. Real intimate and soft. Have you shown them to Jacqueline yet?”
“Not yet. I wanted to get your opinion first to see if they were even worth saving. You’re the first person I’ve shown them to.”
“Aw, I’m flattered! You should totally show these to Jacqueline, I think. She’ll love them.”
“Thanks, Aubrey.”
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