Shallow_newwrts
Ava had never known what the world looked like, but she knew how it felt. She memorized spaces through sound and touch-the echo of her footsteps in wide hallways, the cool marble beneath her fingers, the soft rustle of curtains stirred by the wind. Living in a grand mansion filled with maids and guarded by silent bodyguards, she was surrounded by people, yet loneliness often crept in quietly.
Ethan had been there long before Ava ever realized it. Long before he spoke her name out loud. He watched over her from a careful distance, not because she was fragile, but because the world could be cruel. He learned the rhythm of her days-the way she tilted her head when listening, how her fingers curled slightly when she was nervous, how her smile appeared brighter than any sight he could imagine.
Ava didn't see Ethan's eyes soften whenever she laughed, or how his hands clenched when danger lingered nearby. What she did feel was his presence-steady, calm, and familiar. His voice became her compass, his silence a promise that she was never alone.
Ethan had liked her for a long time. Not out of pity, not because she was blind, but because she was strong in ways few people noticed. In a world built on sight, Ava taught him how to see differently-through patience, trust, and love that asked for nothing in return.
And though Ava could not see the way Ethan looked at her, she felt it in every step he walked beside her, guarding her heart just as faithfully as he guarded her life.