An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The door opens and he stops talking, shifting the large bags of photography gear on his shoulder – most of it is Shitty’s. He doesn’t need this much when it’s just him and the outdoors.
“Hi, you must be Eric Bittle. I’m Larissa, this is Jack. B–”
“Come in! Please. It’s so nice to meet you after all the back-and-forth with the emails. I have to say I am kind of a nervous wreck right now, I’ve been up since four doing all the prep and have made most of the things I can already, but I just feel like I’m forgetting something –”
“Don’t we want some action shots?” Jack asks, looking toward Lardo for confirmation as they follow Eric toward the kitchen. The apartment is filled with a multitude of smells and he can’t pick anything specific out.
“Oh, there’ll be plenty of action,” Eric says, and then bites his lip, his face pulling into a dismayed scrunch and Jack can’t help smiling slightly. “I just meant that there’s so much left to do. I, um, cleared the area over there for all your equipment. I just need to go and check a few things.”