Teeny Tiny Shots|✓

A Chance Encounter ✓

Tags: Fanfic/btsv

Word Count: 1k words

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

There lived a girl in a small town named Sundernagar, wandering through the place with a camera hung around her neck and an inkling for photography simmering in her heart. She had the eye to capture perfection, the hands to stabilize a shot, and the heart to feel beauty. What she didn't have was the back; back of her family, her parents and their support towards her passion.

Like almost every other parent, hers too wanted her to pursue academics; to be a renowned doctor or an engineer, but that's not what's only important to live, now is it?

Well, it was the same for that girl, Amisha.

Having had too many bitter experiences in her relationship with her family and her past friends, who didn't last more than few weeks, she had decided to give herself a break from the relationships, be it of any kind.

Her only love was the inanimate object that hung around her neck, letting her see only good in the world; the serenity of nature; the babbles of a newborn calf; the crisp cover of a book, anything but an actual person.

That was until she came across a stranger one day. A stranger with striking blue hair, too uncommon for the small town she lived in, an inhumanely glow to his face, a cautious lift of his lips bordering to a smirk, and not to forget, a sharp pair of eyebrows complimenting even sharper pair of eyes, yet adorned with a soft glint somewhere, all which her camera captured incessantly; one after the other.

The shutter of the camera, however, didn't prove to be as silent as it claimed to be, quickly attracting the attention of the stranger who was merely admiring a pink rose in the garden where she too happened to be in.

It's safe to say that the moment their gazes aligned, Amisha's breath hitched in her throat and her eyes widened slightly, from behind the camera lens, her limb and mind coordination making her forget to tuck in the tresses of her hair behind her ear or to close her gaped mouth.

The stranger's smooth forehead creased with a frown when he saw the camera directed towards him, his lips losing their lift for good.

Amisha fumbled with the object in her hands, finally closing her mouth and gulping thickly, trying to think of an excuse as to why she had been clicking photos of a person whom she didn't know, a person who could charge her for taking his photos without consent. However, as she released her hitched breath, it was only to come up with no lie whatsoever. She decided to simply tell the truth to the person who was now, slowly but surely, taking steps towards her, a celebrity equivalent confidence in his steps and authority in the tilt of his head.

Okay, now she was more intimidated by him than she had ever been in her life, well minus the time when her parents had forced her to give the medical entrance exam for 3rd time in the row, ugh, that was truly terrorising.

However, the stranger inching closer towards her didn't stop in his steps. His predatory walk and those narrowed eyes looked all very threatening until the man cracked an unexpected rectangular smile, (saying 'box-shaped smile' would be more relevant) making his eyes crinkle at the corners, his stoic face deforming to give his cheeks a lift.

And this time she lost her stepping, flabbergasted by the fact that how any person could go from looking threatening to this adorable.

She shook her head to throw the unnecessary thoughts that were piling up in that artistic head of hers.

"Hello." The person then spoke, a deep and heavy voice embellishing his personality, the childish smile on his face not matching with husky voice quality at but at the same time rendering her helpless of finding a more fitting voice to the face.

"Hi." She greeted, waving her hand slightly - even though the blue-haired stranger was standing right in front of her - quickly removing the camera from her neck, and turning it towards the stranger. "I'm - I'm sorry about the photos," she then began stumbling through her words. "I didn't mean to intrude your personal space or click your photos without consent. It was just that I was clicking the photo of the roses over there and your face just entered the frame, and your hair colour, it gathered my attention and yeah. . . It just happened. I'm sorry, I'll just delete them."

She began going through her camera settings right in front of his eyes so that the man could believe her. She was stopped though, by a hand much bigger than hers, taking the camera from her and gazing intently at the still undeleted photos.

A chuckle dribbled out of his mouth, gaining Amisha's attention.

"These are quite some photos, hmm?" The stranger commented, his eyes widening in bafflement, meeting hers. "Are you a professional photographer?" he then asked and she shook her head.

"No, I'm still a student. I hope you're not planning to complain about me to the college authorities or the police. I said I'll delete the photos." Amisha said, a hint of exasperation underlining her voice with some unspoken fear.

God knew if her parents would come to know about her involvement in this incident, by the college or the police, they'll positively kill her, no questions asked whatsoever. And she'd like to think that she wasn't afraid of them but the truth was that in a small town like hers where the households still worked in a patriarchal setup, she had no freedom or a chance to explain to her parents about anything or expect any sympathy from them. It was just the God that was always by her side, her camera and her lonely self.

The stranger laughed, halting her inner crisis, once again averting her attention to himself. "I'm sorry if you felt that I was going to complaint about you. Well, I mean it is not advisable to take photos without consent," he said and then stopped, looking down to the camera. "But if you're this good, you might as well charge them for those photos because honest to God, these are the best photos anyone has ever clicked of me, and I'm a model." The stranger explained, voicing the last sentence with an airy tone, making her immediately conscious of her photography skills, the images of hundreds of photographers taking pictures of the man standing in front of her running through her mind.

She gulped. "A model?"

The man nodded, smiling, and giving back the camera to her. "Yeah, I work for international shoots. No one knows me here so I'm here for a break."

Ok, now she hadn't asked him that much but she didn't mind neither the information nor the man standing in front of her, both effectively giving her a break from her boring and monotonous routine.

"Ah," she hummed, nodding her head. "Well, then enjoy your vacation. I'm sorry again for the interruption. I hope no one else disturbs you here. Now if you will excuse me." She said as politely as she could, once again hanging the camera around her neck and working her long hair into a quick bun that had come undone.

However, just as she was about to step in the opposite direction, she was stopped by a small "wait," from the man. She turned around to find him holding a piece of paper which looked awfully similar to a business card. "Here," he said handing the thing to her. "My business card. I'd like you to work with me if you ever have time. You're incredibly talented."

Amisha was rendered speechless at the sudden offer, unable to say anything but enjoying being at the receiving end of that boxy smile at the same time, all the while wondering if this chance encounter would change her life for good.

The card merely said, "V".

A/N: Never thought I'd write a Fanfic but AmishaThakur848 made me do it
(^～^;)ゞ