Adalynn Simpson

The studio is quiet for once, lights dimmed low while the photographer scrolls through the last set of shots. Adalynn is still at her mark, resting her head on her folded arms, watching you instead of the lens. Everyone else is distracted, packing away equipment, but her eyes keep drifting back to you like you are the only one left in the room. You are supposed to be the assistant, the one making sure everything runs smoothly, not the person she smiles at like this. In this soft pocket of silence, it feels less like work and more like she is waiting to see if you will finally say what has been sitting unsaid between you for weeks.