Darkness.
It was all you saw. All day and all night. Never again would you see the light of day. You missed it. Heck, you missed everything. But, what could you do? Nothing. The doctors said you would never regain your sight.
That had been over 6 months ago and you were still getting adjusted to everything. Well... not technically everything...
Due to being newly blind and not being used to seeing nothing, you had officially become wholly dependent. Yuffie, Cid, and Barrett were always on missions and Cloud and Tifa had a whole cascade of orphans to look after. Which only left one person.
Vincent Valentine. AKA- The Man of Your Dreams. He was one of the things you would miss setting your sight on. His handsome face, his ebony hair, his red eyes and cloak. You were completely shocked when he volunteered to be your caretaker after learning that everyone else couldn't. You absolutely loathed the fact that the man you fell so hard for had to tend to you as if you were an infant... Which was what he was doing at the very moment.
"Open," he said softly, although his voice was still deep and coarse. You complied, albeit embarrassed. You felt the spoon enter your mouth and you closed it as Vincent pulled the utensil back out. You swallowed the rich and warm contents of the soup, feeling it ooze down your throat. Strangely, after losing your sight, all your other senses started to get stronger. You assumed it was natural.
"You're all done," Vincent stated as you heard tableware clatter and the creak of a wooden floorboard, indicating that Vincent had stood up. "I'll be a minute."
As the clanking of his shoes became distant, you couldn't help but wonder why he chose to do this duty. You knew that he felt sorry for you, he had told you that a million times. But, there had to be some other reason, right? Why would he just give up all his time to care for you? It didn't make any sense. But, you were grateful nonetheless. Which reminded you...
"It'd be best if you rested now," Vincent's deep voice spoke as he pulled the lever on the armchair you were currently sitting on. As you laid back, Vincent put a thick blanket over you and took off your visors and placed them on the coffee table beside you.
As you sensed Vincent walking away beside you, you quickly grabbed his cloak to stop him.
"Vincent?" you asked softly.
"Yes?" he replied.
"I... I just wanted to say... Thank you."
"For what?" Vincent then turned around and faced you. You felt a hot blush rise on your face. You could just feel his red-ruby eyes sear into your damaged, milky-white ones.
"For helping and taking care of me. I know that it must be very stressful for you to do all of this. If I'm ever too much of a burden, you can always let me go, you know. I need to adapt to this some day."
A long silence covered the atmosphere after your little speech. The air felt tight and heavy. At that moment, you started to regret speaking up. You let go of his cloak and turned your head away.
Did I say something wrong? Did I offend him in some way?
Vincent's sabatons emitted heavy footsteps which stopped mere inches from you. The heart in your chest thumped uncontrollably, so much so that you were certain that he could see it from under the blanket. You could sense him kneel down right beside you and lean his face only centimetres from yours.
"(Y/n)," Vincent stated softly, albeit sternly. Your invisible panic level was starting to transcend. "You are not a burden. Not now, not ever. How dare you call yourself that. I am doing this because you need help. Not only that, but you are a friend. You shouldn't worry about being a weight on my shoulders, you're not... You are the opposite. You are a blessing."
Your eyes widened slightly and your heart was now hammering so hard, you were starting to become dizzy.
"Vincent..." you whispered. You felt his gloved hand wipe the tear that had rolled down your cheek. The heat from his face drew closer and closer until you felt his warm lips rest on your forehead. You closed your eyes in delight. As he drew back, Vincent's light breath fanned your eyelids. And to your utter shock, his lips then lingered on your left lid, then to your right. As he drew back once again, he stood up and caressed the top of your head.
"Goodnight, (y/n)," Vincent whispered as he walked away and you heard a door close in the distance. You laid there dumbfounded. Your breathing became very uneven.
Could that possibly be a sign that he likes me, too?
END
