He fingered the cold plastic, rolling it around in his hands until it felt comfortable, a piece of his own flesh. He turned it over, studying the electronic display on the back.
The man at the camera store had told him it was the newest technology. No respectable photographer was still using a 35 millimeter.
He had tried to explain that he didn't want to see the image seconds after he had taken it. It stripped the art, took away the spontaneity, he had said. The clerk had looked at him sideways, evaluating his sanity. So he had given in, paying for the camera and making a quick exit.
As he began snapping pictures of his surroundings, he missed the familiarity that had been ripped away from him. There was no film that needed to be loaded, no light to be measured. Everything was taken care of, leaving him alone to make sure the shutter snapped open and closed.
He hated landscapes. They were stark, still, predictable. He had worked with live models, people who could change and react to his skill. They were dynamic, interactive. Now, with only trees and bushes being forever preserved, he felt a feeling of emptiness overcome him.
Still, you have to start somewhere.
Turning, he concentrated his attention on the fountain, framed on all sides by various shrubbery. Clicking away absentmindedly, he caught a glimpse of a human form on his lighted display.
And that's when he saw her.
He ducked behind some bushes to avoid her gaze, hoping like hell that he hadn't been spotted. But despite everything that screamed at him to just leave well enough alone, he was drawn to her, and he felt his gaze drifting back over to her before he knew what was happening.
He had thought that she was beautiful back when he had known her. But if anything, the years had only served to enhance her beauty. Her hair was straight now, not falling in the messy ringlets that he remembered. She walked confidently, every last trace of the fear she had once carried with her now gone. His eyes traveled down to her skin and he saw that some things were just the way he had remembered. Her skin looked soft, and even at that distance he could see it appear to be glowing softly. He could still remember the way that she had felt in those few moments when her skin met his touch.
Feeling the memories course through his body, he pulled his gaze away from her, cupping his head in his hands.
He had spent eight long, lonely years in prison, and the campus priest that would visit every Saturday had warned him of this very experience, this blissful moment when he would come in contact with her again. But all of those long afternoon counseling sessions evaporated around him. He could feel her close to him, and he just wanted to reach out to her again.
"Remember the hunt." He reminded himself. It had been a long time, and with somebody as special as Elizabeth, well, he had to make it fun. After all, she was responsible for sticking him in that dark forsaken prison, her and her little friends. No, he would come up with something special, a surprise to surpass all others.
He watched her stride confidently past the fountain, past the bench. Their bench. Never flinching, never looking back.
"Have you really forgotten about me, Elizabeth? So soon? We certainly can't have that. Not after everything we've been through together."
"We won't think of it as revenge," he murmered as he watched her increase the distance between them, "more like an interesting reunion. It's been too long, Elizabeth, far too long. You are in for the surprise of your life, little one."