Open My Eyes

Bonus Scene 1: Vanessa

A/N: these bonus scenes aren't a part of the novel itself, but i thought it would be fun to write some extra stuff with the characters!

for the first bonus scene, i really wanted to show Vanessa in a different light, through a different perspective. Vanessa Height plays a huge role in the novel, despite never actually being, well, y'know, alive 🙃 and when she is there, she's filtered through the memories of a little girl.

i adore Vanessa's character, but i think she's quite different than how little, naïve, adorable Angie saw her. so here's a bonus scene of Vanessa, to show you what she was actually like (she DID have to act like a role model around the kids, so when she's not around the little kids, she can cut loose and be, well, fully herself).

enough of my rambling. i hope you enjoy this bonus scene of Vanessa!

vanessa

He held the oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, her own arms too weak to do it herself. His expression was soft and patient as he sent her a small smile. She tried to smile back.

"This is sexy, huh?" she joked, voice muffled by the mask. She laughed it off, but she felt humiliated.

She was naked in her boyfriend's bed, gasping for breath—and not in the good way. Rather than cuddling afterwards, he had grabbed the emergency stash of bag valve masks (BVMs) and pressed one to her face. Nothing kills the mood like being unable to breathe, literally.

He chuckled but said nothing. He just looked down at her, brown eyes gentle and glowing. Like he wasn't helping to pump oxygen into her lungs. Like they were just lying on his bed, having a casual conversation.

"Maybe I should invest in a tank," she said. "That way, we can have sex without worrying that I'll stop breathing randomly."

This time, he laughed, shaking his head.

She could imagine it: his friends stumbling on the portable oxygen tanks stashed under his bed. She could hear them ask him, "Why the hell do you have this stuff?" And she could hear Jake tell them in that casual way he had, "So my girlfriend and I can have sex without worrying about her lungs giving out on us."

"It'd be, like, a sex toy."

"What a strange fetish." So devil-may-care. He quirked a brow and asked, "Besides, are you planning on having that much rampant sex with me?"

With oxygen flowing steadily through her now, her strength returned, slowly, slowly. She could hold the mask by herself, but he didn't let go.

Her laughter misted the mask. "Yeah, I am. Got a problem with that?"

"You're gonna kill me, girl."

"Is that really a terrible way to go?"

"There are worse ways."

And then the room got quiet. Like both of them realized she was not healthy. That her lease on life was always wobbly and unsure. That the way she could go was one of those "worse ways."

"Is the diagnosis the same?" he murmured. But there was no panic in his eyes or in his forehead. Like it didn't bother him that she had centronuclear myopathy and osteopenia—that had just upped its status to "aggressive" osteopenia.

She played with the tubing on the bag valve mask. "Those sorts of things don't change." She shook her head. "Anyway, no medical talk. You promised."