Truly Blind | p. parker

xi • christmas day

Winter soon broke out over the city. By the time most of the boxes in your parents' apartment had been completely unpacked, you could expect to see snow on the ground every day.

"Done." Peter announced, pulling your laptop closed. "Finally." He set it on the windowsill and leaned against the side of the building, letting the quilt around his shoulders fall open.

You grinned, swinging your dangling feet back and forth above the street far below. You and Peter were outside on the fire escape; far enough from society to feel alone, but close enough to still have wifi.

"I can't believe it's over." You said, marveling. "It literally feels like May asked me to tutor you yesterday."

Peter nodded, his back against the brick. "Time flies, I guess. School was barely starting and now," He held out his hand, palm facing up. "It's snowing. And I don't have any more assignments to do."

"It's a Christmas miracle," You laughed.

"Sorry I didn't get you anything," Peter teased, rubbed the back of his neck.

You pulled your blanket tighter around your shoulders and turned around to face him. "It's not like I got you anything either." You smiled. Besides, being able to escape my parents today is the only thing I'll ever need."

Peter was quiet for a while. You looked back out over the city and watched the sun's progress as it sunk lower and lower behind the skyline.

Finally, Peter said quietly: "They really bring you down, don't they."

You stiffened. "Hm?"

"Your parents." Peter said. "Every time you mention them you clam up and every time we hang out after you're with them you're exhausted.

You inwardly cursed yourself for misjudging Peter's ability to read you. The accuracy of his senses was incredible, almost like a super power. You knew since he lost his sight his other senses should have become more attuned to their surroundings, but to this extent seemed other-worldly.

You sighed. "Yeah... they're not too..." You swallowed and gripped your blanket tighter. "Understanding."

Peter seemed to consider this.

"Oh, look," You pointed, "You can see the stars tonight. It's been so cloudy lately I haven't..." You trailed off, quickly realizing your mistake.

Peter grinned. "Yes, I'm sure they look brilliant."

You hit your head against the metal railing. "Sorry, I forgot."

You could hear the smile in his voice. "Don't worry about it. You're normally so aware of it. I'm actually surprised this hasn't happened more often. Most people just completely disregard my disability, but you never seem to."

A freezing breeze blew by, pulling at your hair and making you close your eyes to avoid the dry sting. "I do try."

"I know. And I'm thankful. Not many people do."

"It must suck not being able to see." You said.

You expected Peter to shrug this off like he usually did with questions about his altered lifestyle, but instead he grew thoughtful. "It sorta does. I had a lot going for me but... it's kinda impossible now." His quilt whipped around him in the wind and you wondered what he meant. What could have been lost because he couldn't see?

"My favorite thing to look at used to be the city skyline." He continued. "I was always studying it, memorizing angles, estimating building heights, watching the sunsets, admiring the city lights, the way the moon reflected off the windows on clear nights..." He trailed off. "It's hard to picture it now. It's been so long."