After about 10 minutes of writing and thinking, he got up from the floor and headed back to his bedroom. Grabbing his favourite black jeans from his bean bag, Auvery made his way to the bathroom and proceeded to brush his teeth, all the while staring in the mirror. His bright ginger curls were, annoyingly, falling into his eyes, leaving Auvery contemplating whether he should cut his hair or go to a barber.
15 minutes later he was once again, standing in front of the same mirror, a comb in the left hand and blunt scissors in the right. 'There is no way that this could go wrong right? It's just a little trim. Just the ends...' Auvery thought to himself while staring into the mirror. Slowly he combed out a strand of hair at the front, and pulled on it to stretch out the curls, whilst bringing the scissors closer. And just as he was about to cut the ends (if one would even call it the ends.. Cause... Well.. It was barely a centimetre of hair), he threw the scissors and the comb into the sink. 'No no no no no ! I'm not doing it, I'll ruin it, I always ruin everything, my hair is fine the way it is' he panicked in his mind.
And well.. Auvery being Auvery, he once again in a split second decision grabbed the scissors, this time grabbing an uncombed chunk of hair from his right side and without thinking let the scissors do their work. Except this time he definitely messed up. He cut off too much. And it was oh so very obvious. Why did he even grab such a large amount of hair anyways? But that was Auvery for you.
After about a minute of looking at the reflection of his hair, completely frozen with a deadpan face all he could muster up was "Well shit.."
Now he had no choice but to actually cut his hair to try and fix it. Maybe that little hair accident wasn't THAT bad. After all, it forced Auvery to trim his hair, because there was no way out of it now, since leaving his house would no longer be an option if his hair stayed in the state that it was. Not to make matters worse he decided to only work on the ruined side of his hair, before he could destroy any more of his bouncy curls.
Auvery worked on his hair for about half an hour. Taking a deep breath, he thoroughly examined his head expecting a total disaster. But what he got was actually pretty nice. The right side of his hair was now much shorter than the other, looking a bit like a grown out side shave, the rest of his long curls swept to the left. It well.. Made for a good look. Maybe he'll keep it that way.
"You're right. No mistakes, just happy little accidents" Auvery quoted Bob Ross to himself, unable to hold in his chuckle.
Once done with the rest of the stuff in the bathroom, he finally put on his jeans and made his way to the kitchen. It was 9am by the time he sat down with 2 pieces of burnt toast (also an accident) on a plate and butter to the side. Auvery couldn't help but sigh, looking at the toast. It really did not feel like today was going to be a good day.
Like any other Friday afternoon, Auvery packed his yellow backpack with some books for his literature class, and carefully placed his camera inside, cushioning it with a hoodie. It was easier to have the camera inside his backpack, rather than carrying the special bag for it. He did use it at first, but it became inconvenient and annoying pretty soon.
He, as usual, set out early. Very early (Auvery could leave 2 hours later and he would still be the first person to arrive to class). He found himself a.. Rather questionable hobby for Tuesday and Friday afternoons, before class. Maybe not just rather. More like a VERY questionable hobby. And for said hobby, Auvery took a short bus ride slightly out of the city centre, towards the posh side of the city.
Auvery enjoyed photographing nature, especially flowers. And according to him, rich people gardens is where you will most likely find the biggest and most extravagant selection of flowers, buzzing with bees and bugs and butterflies and all the things in between. To Auvery it was like a paradise.
Out of all the humongous houses and mansions and estates in the area, one particular manor, at the edge of the woods, took all the boy's interest. It had the largest land behind it. One that looked like it was taken out of a fairy tale, filled with a copious amount of flowering greens and trees and bushes and anything you could practically imagine.
To Auvery's dismay, he early on found out that by the looks of it, there lived the first guy he's ever slept with, his first and last one night stand. But that wasn't something that would stop him from coming back. He spent his Tuesday and Friday afternoons, all throughout August and now early September, compiling a folder full of photos of the garden's intricacies on a little usb stick.
To take the photos Auvery figured out a way to sort of, not really, but technically, trespass the manor. The garden was fenced off by a tall wall, but one could get above it by going into the woods lining the side of the property and climbing a specific tree. The tree had some sturdy branches that reached out over the fence and into the garden, which were, according to Auvery, well covered by the leaves and branches of the neighbouring trees. The branch provided access to the top of the fence. where one could walk along the length of the property.
Auvery climbed up the tree and carefully sat down. Once he took off his backpack, he wedged it into the branches and reached in to grab his camera and set it up. After positioning himself for a clear view of the garden, he leaned into one of the smaller branches. His eyes wandered the property as if looking for someone just a minute too long, but no one was there. He found it slightly unusual since he was always in the garden at this time, feeding the cat, but didn't question it. After all, the snobby rich were always occupied by their life, so maybe he forgot. It wouldn't surprise Auvery.
Lifting up his camera, Auvery looked through the lens, scoping the area for a new spot to photograph-
"Looking for me?" A cold voice called out from beneath him. It startled Auvery, making him jump.
Suddenly.
Crash.
Auvery's camera, the one that was in his hands just a second ago, scattered into pieces at the impact with the ground below. It made Auvery jump again, this time forcing him to look down.
There he was, next to the remnants of his precious camera, his cold blue eyes piercing through Auvery's skull, leaning against the stone fence. It brought even more confusion and fear into Auvery. Was the boy there the entire time? Was he waiting for Auvery?
Well fuck.
Maybe not all mistakes are happy little accidents.
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