Truly Blind | p. parker

xiv • shower

The bright white sun shone through the curtains and into your face, making you squeeze your eyes tighter shut and roll over, pulling the warm blanket with you.

You were comfortable here, laying in bed feeling much happier than usual with a well loved blanket that smelled like something wonderful. Something familiar; something dear and tender to you. The sunlight was a drawback. How were you supposed to get any more sleep?

Wait, sunlight? Your room didn't have a window.

Groggily, you opened your eyes and squinted, turning over to understand.

Your stomach dropped. You weren't in your room; you weren't even in your parents' apartment.

You sat up quickly, throwing the blue and black checked quilt off of you. Instantly, a chill from the cracked window met your skin and goosebumps rose on your arms. It didn't matter though. You dove off the couch seizing your phone. You prayed it wasn't dead.

You were in luck. Though it had less than ten percent, it was enough to check for messages from your mother. Because you had not come home as you had promised to last night, no. As you had understood the moment you sat up in your make-shift bed, you had fallen asleep on the Parkers' couch and no one had woken you up.

Cold dread filled your chest as you saw two texts from your mother. She would no doubt be livid that you had not yet returned.

To your utmost surprise however, the messages from her did not seem concerned for your whereabouts in the slightest. In fact, the only reason she had even reached out was to briefly let you know that she and your father had left yesterday afternoon to visit chicago for their anniversary and wouldn't be back until this afternoon.

Relief flooded through you like sinking into a hot bath. She was not angry. She probably assumed you were home.

But then you cursed under your breath. Your copy of the apartment key was sitting in your room, collecting dust. You hadn't expected to be left alone by your parents. Whilst powering off your phone, you made a mental note to stow the key in your backpack for future incidents.

A door opened behind you and you sat up straighter, turning to see.

"Hey, are you up?" It was Peter. Fully dressed and hair combed, he was smiling brilliantly in your direction. "I was just coming to wake you. But I can sense now that it's not really necessary."

You let out a yawn and stretched your arms over your head. "Yeah, I'm awake."

"Sorry I didn't wake you up last night. I was sort of out of it, and by the time May came to separate us I was too groggy to think straight. You're not in trouble, are you?" Peter approached the arm of the couch and touched it, reassuring his senses that it was there.

"No, not in trouble." You stood up. "Parents are out of town apparently."

"Oh, that's good then."

"Yeah, I guess. But I don't have my spare key which means I'll need to climb the fire escape and go in through the broken bathroom window."

Peter looked startled at this suggestion. "No, no, surely you can just stay until they come back. They never leave town for more than a day or two."

"True, they'll be back this afternoon," you admitted. "But I really need a shower."

At this, Peter turned slightly pink. "W— well," He stuttered. "You could use our shower. If that's not weird to you," He affirmed. "I just don't want you to have to go through the trouble of climbing the fire escape. Sounds dangerous."

This coming from someone who refused to walk with a cane most of the time but knew the consequences if he fell felt most unlike Peter.

"You're worried about danger? When you routinely cross the street without me at your side?"

But he knew you too well. Even if he couldn't see you, he could practically hear the smirk in your tone. "Ha, ha. No, I just don't want you to get hurt, that's all."

You opened your mouth to assure him you would be fine when May walked in, her hair in a knot on her head and her glasses perched jauntily on her nose. "What's up, kids? Good morning by the way, Sleeping Beauty. I practically had to drag this one off of you last night." She jerked her thumb to her nephew who visibly gulped and scratched his neck.

You gave a polite laugh to cut through the steaming tension and then pressed on as though it wasn't there. "I was just telling Peter I need to shower so—"

"So I said she could do so here." Peter interrupted. "Her parents are out of town and the door's locked."

You bit your tongue and watched as Peter's face regained its confidence.

"Yes, I think that's an excellent idea." May said, her eyes squinting down as she held up an envelope to her glasses. You weren't entirely sure she had understood.

"But I didn't bring a change of clothes." You smiled. "Really, it's no trouble, I can just—"

"No, no." May interjected. "I'm sure Peter has a clean and pressed outfit you can slide into when you're finished washing up." Evidently her focus had not deteriorated in the slightest. "Peter, go fetch my shampoo and conditioner please. Oh, and a new razor from the closet. And a fresh towel." She looked up and seemed to consider her nephew for a moment before amending: "No, nevermind. I'll do it. You go find her a change of clothes."

As Peter turned to go you saw a triumphant smile. You held in a small grin despite your insistence that you could manage.

"Boys," May said, dropping the bill on the counter and making as if to enter her room again. "They're wonderful, but they don't always listen."

After quickly grabbing a granola bar from the pantry and scarfing it down, (you hadn't managed to grab dinner the night previous,) you made your way to the bathroom, privately wondering if May also had a toothbrush you could borrow.

You almost bumped into Peter in the doorway. "Oh, sorry," He reached out his hand to steady your shoulder. You felt warmth spread down your arm from where he had touched you.

"It's good," you smiled. "Um, thank you for, uh, this." you gestured to the bathroom where you could see a pile of necessities that May had undoubtedly placed for your convenience as well as the change of clothes from Peter.

"Don't sweat it. It's the least I can do after, you know, last night."

His face colored again and his eyes moved away from you, even though they were unseeing. It was as if he didn't want to risk you being able to see into his thoughts.

"Don't sweat it," you mimicked him.

He smiled. "Don't smell too much like May, okay? It's weird enough to have you changing into my clothes."

His words sent a wave of butterflies through you. You laughed them away. "Okay Peter, whatever you say."

You closed the door and silently sighed. If he only knew what he was doing to you.

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