Clearly

I grumbled as I heard my doorbell chime throughout my house, a series of soft knocks on the door following it. I have no clue as to who could be at my house/studio since only a few customer’s know of its whereabouts and those who do know about it know that it is definitely not open now. However, my curiosity got the best of me and I quickly sat up in bed, rubbing the sleepy blur out of my eyes as I shuffled into my office in nothing but my plaid sweatpants.

I grumbled as I felt my toe skim the corner of my desk and I groaned, leaning over and grabbing my foot as I hopped around on the other. Not going to lie, but a string of profanities may or may not have made their way past my lips since I stubbed my toe. I gently put the heel of my foot back onto the hardwood floor before I continued to hobble towards the door in hopes that whoever had been knocking moments prior was still there and didn’t leave since I was taking so long.

However, the site on the other side of the door when I was finally able to open it was completely unexpected. Then, to make matter's worse, I had to scurry behind the open door as if I were a shy little school girl, not wanting him to see my half naked body. I was truly regretting the fact that I decided to go to sleep without a shirt or even a wife beater.

"Pierce?" I questioned, a bit of the shock that I was currently feeling leaking into my tone. "What are you doing here?" I continued as my brows furrowed. I peaked over my shoulder at the clock that I had mounted above my bookcase door and saw that it was about an hour and a half before I was due at their place.

"I came to tell you that you have the day off today," he said around one of his contagious smiles as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie. The hood was pulled over his head over a flat peak, shadowing his eyes, and the sweatshirt was zipped all the way up, giving him sort of mysterious look. And then it struck me. He's wearing a sweatshirt in ninety degree weather. Of course he's trying to hide himself from paparazzi. I am such an idiot.

"Uh... you want to come inside?" I offered, smiling as he nodded and slowly stepped inside, allowing me to close the door behind him. He unzipped his sweatshirt quickly, throwing it carelessly over his shoulder as he took his hate off, running his hand through his hair. I couldn't help but notice how he was in nothing but a wife beater, sweat making his already toned arms glisten deliciously. He must have really been hot.

He turned to me, smiling just like always. "Thanks," he said, nothing but sincerity in his tone.

"It's no problem," I muttered, crossing my arms over my body in hopes that it could shield my awkwardly thin and pale torso from the view of a man who might as well be a walking piece of perfection. "But, if you don't mind my asking, why are you here?" I asked, continuing my thoughts from earlier.

He walked around the room, staring at a few of my camera's appreciatively before he sat himself in the seat in front of my desk. "Well, on top of telling you that you had the day off, I wanted to pick up my roll of film because I'm anxious," he admitted, peeking up at me in an almost shy manner. "I didn't want to have to waste an entire day freaking out about them," he continued, making me smile. When I was a beginner, I was the exact same way as him.

I thought back to the roll of film that I had developed last night. They were pictures of this beautiful pond at sunset, the array of colors that were painting the sky reflecting against the calm water of the pond in a beautiful, almost peaceful way. Everything was shadowed beautifully, but you could tell from the angle's that they were taken by an amateur. Don't get me wrong, for an amateur, the shots were definitely amazing, but in general, Pierce could use some work, and I'm pretty sure he's aware of that and that's why he's practicing.

"They were really good," I confessed as I walked to my desk, doing my best to angle my body so that he wasn't staring at my naked chest head on. I opened up the drawer that I had stashed his prints in, taking out the manila envelope and handing it to him over the table. "You could use a bit more work on your angle's though," I instructed him, trying not to be rude since I didn't want to come off as a bit snobbish.

"I know," he muttered, taking out the print's to take a look at them himself. I walked over to my bookshelf hesitantly, running my hands along the main shelf as I contemplated whether I should allow him to see my apartment, a place that I've honestly never bought anyone before. One part of me was screaming yes. He was such an incredibly good-looking and nice person and I so badly wanted to be able to call him something like a friend, but I can't. The other more logical part of me was screaming at me not to mix business with pleasure, to not break my rules for a socialite, but my logical side was beat out. Pierce seems different and I feel like I could trust him.

I cleared my throat to get his attention before smiling at him softly. "Do you want to go over them in a more comfortable spot?" I asked, my voice coming out a bit quietly, a mixture of my shyness and nervousness. Why is it that I am perfectly comfortable around him at his house, but when he is in my house, though he doesn't know that he's in my house, I'm a nervous wreck?

"Sure?" He said, asking it as if it were more like a question than a statement.

"Don't laugh!" I warned as I slowly moved the bookcase out of the way, walking through the doorway with him trailing behind me.

"You live here?" He asked a bit incredulously, though it was clear that he found the entire prospect... exciting.

"I couldn't afford a studio and an apartment so I sort of combined them into one," I elaborated as I walked into the living room with him on my heels. "But not many people know so lets keep it between the two of us?" I asked hopefully.

He nodded at me, telling me that he was okay with that. He seated himself on one of my couches as I dismissed myself from the room to quickly pull on a sweatshirt so that I could cover up my awkward body. I quickly walked into the kitchen, grabbing two cold bottles of water out of the refrigerator. I figured that it would be good for me to be a nice host to my guest and cool him down since he seemed to be sodeliciously hot.

The look on his face instantly brightened when he took the water bottle from my hand, thanking me quickly before he downed half of it right away. "Not used to being in the sun?" I joked.

"I barely get out of the house these days with all the paparazzi," he muttered, paying more attention to the prints in his hands then the conversation. It seemed like he was fascinated, not believing that he was able to actually take such unique pictures for an amateur that lacks training in the art of photography.

I gently placed myself on the couch next to him, not wanting to seem too eager or desperate, but wanting to be close to him anyway. After all, he took the time out of his busy schedule to come to my house to spend time with me.

"I could, like, help you with your technique," I offered courageously after a while. Though we were just sitting in silence, viewing the prints that I had developed last night, I liked the way everything was. I liked how the atmosphere was calming and relaxing and how it seemed like we got along so well. I wanted more of this.

He looked up at me, smiling that amazing smile before speaking. "That would be amazing," he said, his voice a bit giddy.

"We could go to the spot where the pond is," I mused. "It's really pretty and I'd love to get some shots of my own there," I told him.

"It's in the east corner of the estate," he told me, slowly stacking the prints on top of each other in what seemed to be in order from the worst on the bottom to the best one's on the top. I must say that he has a good eye for detail since I probably would have stacked them in the exact same order.

"I can try to sneak away early tomorrow so that we could meet up," I mused, trying to think of any excuse possible to not only cut out from Marcie early, but to get to Pierce sooner so that I could spend as much time as possible with him.

"How about you just focus on your task with Marcie and whenever you're done you can come find me, I'll take you to the spot, and we'll go from there. It's not nice unless it's dark anyway," He muttered as he held up the manila enveloped, slipping the prints in like he was scared beyond belief that they would get scratched or ruined.

I hate to admit it, but his plan seemed better. I wouldn't enjoy taking advantage of Marcie just to spend time with her hot brother since I view opportunities like this as learning experiences. She's paying me too! I can't go back on my client's trust. It's just horrible. This is why I don't mix business with pleasure, but it's already too late to go back.

"Sounds good," I muttered as he stood up and walked past my bookcase and towards the main entrance to my studio, probably eager to get home and show his mother his prints. Pierce and Mel seemed to have a very good relationship, bonding like a mother and son should.

I mentally noted how he was forgetting his sweatshirt behind, but decided not to say anything. His family has a lot of money and I doubt he'd notice the absence of one measly solid black sweatshirt.

However, he turned towards me, waving goodbye before walking into my make-shift parking lot and back to his expensive foreign car. And the thing he called over his shoulder as he left would inevitable leave me worrying for the next day and a half. Was he serious or joking? Did he mean it or is he just playing with my head? I need answers at moments like this!

I let the door to my studio swing shut slowly, his words echoing in my school as I stood frozen to the spot, my eyes wide in disbelief.

His musical voice continued to replay the last thing he said to me in my brain on a never-ending cycle, as if it were a record that was continuously getting scratched by a record player. "It's a date!"