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Trophy opened his eyes and saw paintbrush, his partner. A small warmth went through him and seeing them sleep. There was a skill that came with photography that trophy had come to enjoy, and it was noticing the finer details in everything. Every drop of water on the grass, the clouds blocking the sun, and in this case his partner.
Paintbrush had a long face, with some small acne on their neck. Their hair had been dyed blonde, with some of its natural black peeking through. He cupped their cheek, revealing their slightly crooked teeth and chapped lips.
They were beautiful. Trophy kissed their head and fell back asleep, his arm now lazily wrapped around their waist.
He was in love.