19. "I love your smile."
"C'mon Dima!" Anya excitedly exclaimed as she pulled Dmitry across the boardwalk. Dmitry just shook his head and rolled his eyes before reluctantly letting Anya drag him. He wasn't as enthusiastic as she was, resulting in her having to use both her hands to make him move faster.
"What could possibly be so exciting that we have to run?" Dmitry asked, half annoyed. The last time Anya dragged him somewhere, they ended up running from the police because they weren't supposed to be in the park at three in the morning.
"Don't act so grumpy, Dima," Anya scolded him lightly, before stopping in front of what appeared to be a large box. "Bienvenue, Monsieur!" Anya announced proudly.
"It's… a box," Dmitry stated bluntly.
Anya just rolled her eyes and threaded her arm around his. "No silly, it's a photo booth."
Before Dmitry could say anything, he felt Anya drag him inside. If he wasn't paying attention, he would have definitely hit his head on the entrance. Due to his large frame, Dmitry awkwardly stood in the booth with Anya, unsure of what to do.
"Dima, this isn't very complicated. Sit down," Anya commanded. Dmitry did as he was told, and then found Anya excitedly hopping into his lap. He naturally put his hands on her waist to steady her and smiled once he saw her vibrant smile. "Have you never taken a photo before?" Anya asked curiously.
Dmitry paused before responding, he didn't want to offend her by bringing up her privileged upbringing. However, Anya seemed to get his answer from his silence. "Well, I'm excited to finally get a photo with you," she said before pecking his cheek.
She reached into her pocket to get a coin and placed it into the slot. Within a few seconds, the flash went off and the photos were taken. After being developed, Anya examined the small photos.
"Dima!" Anya exclaimed, "You're not smiling in any of these."
"What? Yes, I am," Dmitry argued, plucking the photo strip from her fingertips and examining them for himself. He wasn't going to tell Anya this, but she was right. The first flash caught him off guard, so he had a grimace on his face instead of the gleaming one Anya wore. In the second photo, he was unprepared for the photo and had a blank expression. Finally, in the last one, he wore a smile, but even Dmitry could tell it was forced.
"You look like you're constipated and the one photo you are 'smiling' in, is completely fake. You're a conman. You should be good at faking a smile," Anya stated, still sitting on his lap with her arms wrapped around his neck.
"Correction. Was a conman," Dmitry argued.
Anya rolled her eyes, "Whatever you are, I want a nice photo with my husband since we didn't get any for our wedding."
Dmitry's expression grew somber. "I'm sorry for that," he apologized softly, "you should have had wedding photos."
Anya took his face into her hands, so he looked at her, "Dima, I didn't mean it that way. I didn't want wedding photos or a cake or a fancy ceremony. We're married and that's all that matters. I just want a photo with you, you dork." Anya kissed him fiercely and melted when he kissed her back. Suddenly, a flash went off and Anya pulled back from Dmitry and smiled. Ignoring the camera, he smiled at her the way he did every morning and every night, with a heart full of a love. Before the final flash went off, he tickled her sides and the camera caught them both mid laugh. Despite both being nearly thirty years old, they still acted like lovesick teenagers, giggling abundantly with little care how they looked to others.
When the photos developed, Anya and Dmitry were satisfied with the final product. They exited the photo booth and continued to enjoy their day at the beach.
At the end of the day, Anya and Dmitry lay on a blanket in the sand. The cool breeze and sea salt in the air relaxed the couple and they lay wrapped in each other's arms. Pulling out the photo to examine it again, Anya looked up at Dmitry who had closed his eyes.
"You have a good smile, Dima," Anya complimented softly, her voice just breaking through the sound of the wind.
"Really? I thought you said I looked constipated," Dmitry joked.
Anya swatted his stomach lightly, "I love your smile. The smile you have when you think I'm not looking at you."
