clover| 📷

(Gender of your choice)
You and Clover were childhood friends.
Kindergarten, elementary school, and high school passed you by. Even though your restless friends tried to set you up and passersby thought you were a couple, you swore you'd never get into a relationship because you felt no attraction for each other. For your sixteenth birthday, you gave Clover a pocket camera you found in the attic at your dacha. Clover was over the moon and hadn't put the camera down for four months, photographing everything he found beautiful.
One day, you took Clover with a camera and went for a walk in the snowy forest on the top of the mountain. He had long wanted to walk there and take a couple of photos, and you didn’t mind.
You reached the top of a high cliff, and while you were admiring the view, Clover ran between the trees like a restless child, taking pictures of the dense forest, and then turned to you. His face, red from the cold, looked cuter than ever, especially against the backdrop of his black hair and wide smile.
—Hey, stand by that tree, I'll take a picture of you! I don't have any pictures of you.
He commanded. You reluctantly approached the tree, and he moved further toward the cliff. He took the first shot but decided he needed you to be full-length in the photo, so he moved further, further, and further away until... He didn't stumble or drop the camera, but he plummeted down the cliff. All you managed to see was his surprised face and the camera landing on the cold ground, stuck in the snow.