She huffed a laugh, embarrassed. “For this trip, it’s your camera, and as long as you don’t break it or ruin it you can do what you want. And I get to take some pictures of you.”
“Well, you’re supposed to take photographs of amazing, beautiful things, right? So of course I want to take photos of you,” he stated with an angelic little smile, before he blushed and lifted his shoulders up in a helpless shrug. “Okay…but why?”
“Because,” she said softly, rolling over enough to look him in the face, “I want to remember. What you look like right now, with that smile, the one I know means you’re pretending to be innocent but plotting something. You in the water, your hair all stuck down over your eyes, or sleeping, or just everything. I want to be sure I remember.”