Love at Last Sight

Love at Last Sight: Extra.

When I woke up I knew it was going to be one of those days that I just wanted to give up. My vision had only been gone for one week at this point, but I’d woken up four out of seven days (today included) feeling like it wasn’t worth it. Just finding my way to the bathroom was a hassle. I knew the way of course, I’d lived in the house long enough for that, but I was so paranoid. That I’d trip on the stairs, that I’d step on something that wasn’t there the day before. All that plus the fact that having no sight really though off my balance didn’t exactly make me a happy camper.

            It was even tougher at Chace’s house, because everything was different. I had to go down the stairs to find the bathroom.

            So today, at Chace’s, when I stumbled on the last step on the stair and fell crashing to the ground, I briefly wondered why my neck couldn’t just snap. Seconds later I heard Chace hurrying from the kitchen (or at least I figured it was the kitchen) and come to a stop by my side. “Rosie, are you okay?”

            “I’m fine,” I responded moodily, allowing him to haul me up by the elbow.

            “You don’t sound fine, Grumpy.”

            I scowled at him— or where I thought his face was. It was kind of hard to know without any vision. “You try not being able to see anything.”

            “Hey, if you really want me to, I’ll sew my eyes shut,” he responded easily.

            “No,” I said immediately. “Chace, no.”

            Laughter rumbled through his chest. “I’m just kidding, Rosie. You’re okay though, right?”

            I frowned at his serious tone. It’s like he knew I’d thought about dying already once today.

            “You know, it’ll get better,” Chace told me, drawing me into a hug. “I know it’s hard.”

            “You don’t know,” I pointed out, not unkindly.

            I could almost hear him roll his eyes. “Trying to be sympathetic here.”

            “I know,” I responded, grinning a little. “This just sucks.”

            “Yeah, it does,” he agreed, warm breath caressing my cheek. “But I’d much prefer you like this than dead. That’d just be weird.”

            “And creepy,” I commented, wrinkling my nose at the thought. “I don’t really want to die though, you know that, right?”

            Chace nodded against me. “I know. It’ll be a while until you’re used to this.”

            “Unfortunately.”

            “But hey, now you always have the excuse of holding my hand,” he commented happily, taking my hand almost as to prove his point.

            “Yay,” I said flatly.

            He laughed. “So enthusiastic. Let’s go around the house.”

            “I want Jack—”

            “Do you want to have to rely on Jack your whole life?” Chace scolded me.

            I pouted. “No.”

            “Then you have to walk by yourself sometimes too.”