she’s early. which, really, she’d rather be early than late to come and hang out with nathan, because if there’s anything she wants to be known as with this guy, it’s punctual. she’s worried if she shows up even a minute late it’ll be mentally filed away as ‘reasons max is unfit for friendship’ and her chances will be over. as the waves caress the shore a few feet away from where she sits, she stands up with her camera to snap a polaroid of the edge of the sea, a small smile on her lips. a storage box, full of polaroids, sits on the blanket beside her, and as she sits down, it shifts.
they’ll have their work cut out for them if they want to make any sort of decent portfolio out of all the pieces she has. she’s patient. if anything, it’ll be dragged out, more excuses to be around nathan. if she gets lucky.
