Blind Love.

two: chatters.

Hearing the door, he immediately stands up. He has been waiting for her to settle.

"You're still here."

He shrugs.

"Who? Who's here?" The sound of her voice is so pleasing to him.

"Demitri."

"Oh. ."

"Did she get a card for the surgery too? If so what's the date?" He asks, his heart crippling with anxiety—worrying if they're never meeting again.

"Yes. Tomorrow night."

He lets out a relief sigh. Their date clashes.

The room is filled with chatters all the way until the clock strikes 5 PM.

"Would you want to take a stroll in the hospital park?" His enthusiasm is sounding so clear—she couldn't help but to form a big wide smile.

All the way they have been holding hands.

"I smell freshness." She exclaims.

"I smell it too."

There is nothing better to him more than sitting on a freshly cut grass on an evening with a blind girl. What makes it even better is that he got to escape from his messy life—for now.

"Isn't this peaceful?"

"Very."

"Finally no interruption from unnecessary humans."

"Your life is that messy?"

"Certainly." Sighing, he shuffles a hand in his hair.

"If you don't mind, how do you get blind?" The question. His favorite.

He has never really opened himself to anyone—especially to some stranger whom he just met a few hours ago. But he did it anyway—opening up to her.

"Well. . . I was, well, in this position right now, when I was 5."

"What position?"

"Lying down beneath the stars with hands under my head, gazing. Until it rained. Suddenly. Cats and dogs."

"Oh."

"I screamed for my parents. But it was too late. My world goes black."

"Where are they now?"

"Pft, they disowned me. Left me in front of a flat, apartment I wouldn't know."

The wind blows on her hair as she lies down, too. She's lying on side to face him.

"What about you, how did you get blind?"

"Umph. . . '98, I was seven. I never thought going on a ride at night with my mom could turn horribly wrong."

"Why, what happened?"

"We got into an accident, the mirror flakes, well, my eyes."

"Ouuuuuccchhh." He makes a hurting expression.

"Yes. Very ouch. And that's it."

"That's horrible."

"It took away my mother's life, and it took away my sight. But strange may you say, I actually had few times and days that I could see."

She would never know, but he actually furrows his eyebrows.

"So you've seen yourself? How lucky. You must've look so pretty." He nudges her playfully.

"I'm blushing."

"Aw, that's cute."

It turns quiet for a minute solid because of her blushing too much.

"Continue. . . I only get to see for like 20 seconds in the morning when I wake up. It happens rarely though."

"Still, fortunate you."

And she shifts closer to lean her head on his shoulder. "Indeed."

"Strange. Very strange." She waits patiently for him to continue. "I feel like I can talk to you about anything ever in this entire universe. You earned my trust already. What kind of pixie dust you're using, huh?" He glances at her with a playful frown, as if she's going to see him.

His sense of humor amuses her. For this few hours of spending time together has gotten the two blinds to bond perfectly as he never fails keeping the smile on her doll face.

"I feel the same way, honestly."

"I believe I'm staring at you."

"I believe I'm staring back.

"I think I'm in love," He gasps, tilting his head a bit—their heads touch. ". . .with you."

"You're being silly."

"Nope I don't think so."

"They say love blinds you."

"Well, we're literally blind already. How can we possibly get any blinder?" She smack his stomach soft and playfully. "It's true though."

"Hmph." She still refuses to let her mind register about what he had just said.

"You don't understand, don't you?"

"Enlighten me then."

"The love couldn't possibly be blinding us if we doesn't let it to. In our case, what could possibly turn us blinder? Love? If so, how?"

"The term blind in the phrase doesn't really say about our sight as in physically, silly boy. It means when you love a person better than you love yourself, you tend to do things without thinking clearly, just for the sake of your love—then you end up making mistakes that cause permanent damage to your life."

"You're so literal."

"Or you can say I'm lit."

"Very." They laugh.

The strange affection slowly connects between them, slowly causing the real feelings to blossom. But they couldn't care less. All they care about is to enjoy the very precious moment of feelings that think they never got a chance to. Their faces light up, acknowledging the fact that they really still stood a chance in love after all—despite the fact the couldn't really see each other like other couple.

"Are you attached?"

"Very sure I'm not."

"Good to know."

The same silence as earlier takes the flirtatious chatters of the two away.

"I want to hold your hand." She bites on her tongue—not knowing what to say as a reason.

His deep husky voice waves through the air in his laugh—sending tingles down her spine.

"Sure girl. It has been awhile myself since I last actually touching hands with someone with menstrual cycle."

"Really? Who is the last one?"

"I don't know. The clerk in the lobby just now?"

She bursts into laughter as he then follows.

"Interesting."

"How old are you?"

"You flirts and just now asking for my age? I could've been a 15 year old emotionally unstable girl."

"You said could've been. Which means you're not. Fortunately. We still got a chance for a marriage." He jokes. "I'm 25."

But that doesn't sound much as a joke to her. Deep in the corner of her heart she really is hoping so.

"I'm 24. And if we ever getting back our sights, I'll let you marry me—no matter what we looked like." Slowly the heat of anxiety greets her inner self. She is very worried of whatever she looks like, would open the door for him to leave.

"I'm totally holding on to that words of yours. There's no going back now."