Truly Blind | p. parker

xxvii • one last look

You lay face down, a cool sensation running over your ankles and your heartbeat in your ears.

The breath you tried to take in rattled inside your chest and felt as if it were full of sand. You coughed, but that only made it worse.

You could see nothing before you so you tried opening your eyes. They wouldn't budge.

Panic enveloping you, you moved your hand from beneath your stomach to feel what was wrong.

You flinched violently as you poked yourself in the eye. They had already been open— it was just too dark to make anything out.

"Hello?" You called, coughing a second time and trying to push yourself up onto your hands and knees. "Peter?"

The cool feeling on your feet turned out to be water. You could hear the faint trickling of it now. The pipes must have burst in the explosion.

Worry seized you suddenly as you realized Peter had been holding you when the blast had taken place. "Peter?" You said again, desperation increasing as you pushed yourself onto your feet and stood up as far as you could. You had to crouch slightly because something huge was stretched across your small cavern.

You blinked a few times and began to adjust to the darkness. You could see the faint outlines of the rubble and debris that surrounded you.

A clatter of what sounded like broken concrete came from your right. "Peter!"

"___?" Came his muffled voice.

Relief broke out over you, as cold and awakening as the water over your feet. "Peter— hold on, I'm coming!"

"___, are you alright?"

"I'm coming!"

You moved over what looked like half a desk and crawled underneath what you thought must be a large air conditioning tunnel. It reflected bits of nonexistent light as you rose and turned again towards the sound of shifting rock. "Peter?"

"I'm over here—" He said, and you knew something was wrong. His voice was strained and his breathing shallow. And not many things would have stopped him from bursting through all this debris himself to find you.

"I'm coming, hang on,"

You reached a portion of what felt like a piece of the roof and knew he was just underneath it. "Pete, where are you?"

"Down here," he said.

You crouched low and nearly smacked your own face into his.

"Hey," he said casually, as if having your girlfriend find you stuck under a collapsed building was a regular occurrence. "Nice night for it, hm?"

"Peter," you knelt next to him and could pretty much make out his face now. The darkness was stifling but your eyes were well adjusted now. You could see well enough to know half of his face was covered in blood and no one's arm should be twisted that way. "Oh..."

"It's nothin'," he tried to reassure you but his wince threw the facade off. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head, then immediately corrected yourself by saying: "No," Then realized that he wasn't blind anymore, but reasoned further within yourself that he might not be able to see you in the dark.

He laughed quietly. "It's honestly amazing how little being able to see changes how well I can read you."

"So you can see then?" You sat next to him. He was on his back, his arm covered in concrete rubble, and his legs still.

"Yes, I took the serum." He confirmed.

You tried to swallow but it was difficult; the air was thick with dust. "Pete, listen, I am grateful you saved me but—"