Lawrence knelt beside the small, worn-out table in the corner of their cozy room, the vintage portable camera in his hands. Izabela sat cross-legged on a cushion, observing intently.
She listened carefully to every word as he showed her how to operate the device, pressing buttons with ease.
"And this here..." He paused, adjusting a small knob, "...determines the aperture—the amount of light that reaches the film." He turned it slowly, letting her watch how the numbers changed. "Higher numbers mean less light. We'll need to adjust this according to the environment." Lawrence handed the camera to Izabela. "Now, take a look through the viewfinder."
Izabela raised the camera to her eye, peering into its tiny world.
Through the lens, she could see everything clearly — the intricate details on the old bookshelf against the wall, the faint moonlight streaming in through the window, and Lawrence's encouraging smile.
"This thing," Lawrence tapped the button at the top of the camera. "This is your shutter release button. Press this down halfway, until you hear a beep, then fully to capture the moment." He pointed towards the doorframe at the opposite end of the room. "Let's practice by taking a photo of that doorframe."
She moved towards the center of the room, adjusting her stance and position before pointing the camera at the designated target. She focused the camera, the scene appearing crisp and clear in the viewfinder.
"Got it?" Lawrence asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Izabela replied, excitement lacing her voice.
She pressed the shutter release button halfway, hearing a soft beep, and then all the way down.
The camera clicked, capturing the image of the doorframe. The photo ejected from the bottom slot. Lawrence took it from her hand and waved it around gently to help the development process.
"Perfect shot." Lawrence examined the picture appreciatively, before putting it away on the coffee table. "And that's basically it. Pretty simple, right?"
Izabela nodded, her expression filled with pride. "What about the film?"
"Most people would want to use it carefully. Film is hella expensive," he chuckled. "But lucky for you, you're dealing with the rich guy who loves indulging your whims. I'll handle it when it's full. Since we just used one, there's fourteen shots left. So just take pictures of what ever makes you happy."
She tilted her head at him, then back down at the camera in her lap. "Even if it's just me doing little things?"
Lawrence smiled warmly. "I'll cherish every photo, my love. Feel free to experiment with angles, distances, subjects... what ever you want. It's yours." He kissed her cheek.
"So..." Izabela turned her attention to the camera. "How will I know when it's done?"
"There's an indicator here," He pointed to a little circular gauge next to the lens. "See that number? Right now, it says fourteen, but after each photo, the counter goes down by one until it reaches zero. Once you hit that magic number, the camera will stop functioning, and you'll be out of film until you put more in. Just tell me when that happens." Izabela nodded and adjusted her hold on the device, getting comfortable with it. "If you need anything else, I'd be more than happy to help."
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and nuzzled into her neck. Izabela hummed contentedly, leaning back against his solid chest. Lawrence rested his chin on her shoulder.
...
Over the next week, Lawrence found rolls of film gradually handed back to him. When he developed them, his heart swelled with happiness at the images of various objects and locations.
Despite his constant reminders that she didn't need to worry about running out of film, Izabela still chose her shots meticulously.
There were some of her with some new clothing on, most of which he had bought, with those beautiful green eyes of hers that he adored so much staring straight into the lens.
Others captured the essence of quiet moments—her reading a book in the living room, looking so immersed in her poetry. He admired the detail she captured. Part of him wondered if she was just faking to not know anything about cameras, because all of these were amazing.
Though, he supposed he was a bit biased.
After collecting the developed photos, he made his way to the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee, already thinking about framing a few of his favorites.
His phone rang, and he excitedly picked it up, expecting it to be Izabela, but it was instead Charlotte. His excitement only wavered a little bit.
"Hey, Char," he greeted casually. "What's up?"
"I was wondering if I could come over," she replied. "I'd like that Givenchy coat I loaned you back. You're going to need to get your own, at this point." Her tone wasn't actually serious.
Lawrence snorted. "You could easily just buy yourself the exact same coat. If you wanted to hang out with me, you could've just said so."
"Ha, ha. Give me my shit back."
"Wow, Charlotte Stephenson cursing? Is hell freezing over?" Charlotte scoffed playfully over the line. "Okay, sure. Come over."
...
Charlotte arrived just a little bit later, pulling into the driveway of the estate. Lawrence watched her from his window seat, swirling the contents of the wine glass in his hand.
A fond smile settled on his lips, and he got up to greet her when she reached his front door. Lawrence opened the door wide and leaned against the frame.
The cool night air greeted him as Charlotte walked up, wearing a dark brown fur coat that hung to mid-thigh and a black wool sweater underneath. A matching black scarf hung around her neck.
"Missed me?" Lawrence teased, taking her coat for her.
"No, I missed my coat. Which I would've worn instead of this one if you didn't have it," she chuckled.
"Hmm, I don't believe you," Lawrence grinned, closing the door behind her. "Take off those boots so you don't track snow in here."
"Obviously." She did so without question. He was about to ask her if she had lunch, but she caught eye of something on the coffee table. She picked up a series of photos, looking through each with interest. "Ooh, who is this?"
"Izabela. I've told you about her," he chuckled. "Pretty cute, yeah?"
"You never told me she was this precious!" Charlotte gushed. "Oh, she's adorable." Her face softened, flipping through each photo of her reading and her posing in different outfits, or normal mundane things that still managed to look adorable. The corners of her eyes crinkled with delight when she saw the ones where Izabela wore a flowy gown.
Lawrence nodded. "Isn't she?" he agreed happily. "I taught her how to use one of the cameras I had lying around, hell knows I got a surplus. She's been practicing with it lately. I'm happy she's taken an interest in it."
Charlotte turned the photos around to show them to him. "Where did you even find her? I want one too!" she chuckled.
"You can meet her. As long as you swear to not try and take her from me," Lawrence jokingly warned.
"I'd never." She made no effort to hide her crossed fingers behind her back.
Rare Bookseller and the Vampire Auction by: @oliversrarebooks
Izabela scrambled upright, breaths coming irregularly. It had been so long since she had a need for breathing.
She stood in the middle of a barren room. The rotten wood shaped to her stockinged feet.
How long had she been out?
She risked it. Peaking outside through a small crack in the blinds.
Curtains pooled at the base of the window. Shifting when she came closer.
Daybreak.
The daybreak began to shift, becoming full day. She gasped, feeling the light sting across her brow bone. Eye sight becoming splotchy.
Backing away, she retreated to cleaning up the ash, staining her skin and skirts. Her next move? She wasn't sure. She felt already weakened and knew it'd only go down from here.
Her heart never truly stopped beating something her Sire constantly commented on. Now, it felt like it was running a million miles an hour.
Tears sprung to her eyes, and she felt tremors begin to set in. She took the back of the comb that her sire always kept on him to brush his ashes up into the small mason jar.
Capping it she put it in her skirt pocket. Swallowing hard. Knowing the enthrallment she'd put on the thralls to keep them away from this area would fade soon.
She'd have to complete her next plan. Hopefully before then.
Traveled back and forth regularly as a child, but as she got older and became more settled in the vampiric side of her nature, her father had less interest in her.
Half Fae - Half Vampire Age: appearance wise, 20s to 30s it really depends which realm she's in. Red hair, green eyes, and is around 5'0. Grew up primarily in the human world Visits Fae realms regularly
Immortal Affinity for death magic [necromancy] Wishy washy morals & loyalty Likes to scavenge for things Prefers to do things herself hates big pivot parts of plans Loves small details Nails grow out curved
Her thralls aren't for service or protection. She usually will keep a human just for amusement. Less for blood because she has no problem going out and feeding off randoms.
Tendency to be more feral in her methods Prefers feeding from vegetarians Iron weakness Silver resistant Intolerant to human food except apples & grapes More emotionally ruled but comes off as pragmatic Prefers to blind or deafen a thrall she's going to keepDisables one or multiple of the main senses (toying with her prey, enemies, etc..)
