Re: O'Brien, Leah
Leah scowled when he grinned at her, putting the hand that had struck out for the camera on her hip. "Who in their right mind would want their picture taken?" Now, when no one looked their best anymore. When happiness was so rare. Photographs were supposed to document good times, memorable times, right? Well, those days were long gone.
"That's why they let snipers have space heaters on the roof. So they can sit up there alone." There was probably a sniper or two on the roof of Madison Square right now, keeping the exploders and all the other zombies from breaching security.
Leah arched an eyebrow at his outburst. "That was your first mistake, then. Always hide your most valuable belongings. It's your own fault for letting your crayons get stolen."
She couldn't help but snort at his assessment of his photos being the worst ever. She hoped so. Served the hostess right for making such an absurd request. Documenting the night. That was a joke.
"Guess that's true. And if we want to make fun of them, we have every right." And that's what they did.