What I Didn't Finish

Blindingly

Context: Stiles goes blind around the age of 13/14. Years later he meets Lydia and they start dated and he occasionally asks to describe things. I literally only have dialogue for this.

"What color is your hair again?"
"Auburn. Strawberry blonde, actually."
"Like the sunset?"
"Exactly."
"And your eyes."
"Green, like the forest."
"Tall trees or short ones?"
She giggles, "short ones, of course."
His thumb grazes over her full bottom lip. "And what about your lips?"
"Do you remember roses?"
"I love roses. Pink or red?"
"Pink, darling."
"What do I look like?"
"You know chocolate?"
"Mhm."
"That's your hair. Whiskey?"
"No."
"Caramel?"
"Yup."
"Those are your eyes. . .they're a little faded over but still beautiful."
"You're beautiful."
"You've never even seen me."
"I don't have to see to know. . .keep going, Lyds."
"Your lips are like mine, rosy. You have lots of freckles."
"What? Really?"
"Yeah, freckles– little constellations on your jaw and cheeks."
"I don't know if I can picture that."
"That's okay. Just know they're there."
"Do you think I'm handsome?"
"Of course, people don't date for personality, it's all about the looks." She joked.
He snickered, "then I suppose I could hit on whoever I want and turn out fine."
Pause
Lyds "what's the worst part?"
"Not being able to see you. Ever. Not being able to tell you how pretty you look and have you actually believe it. You're gorgeous, Lydia, truly."
"The best part?"
"Is there even a best part?"
"There has to be."
". . .seeing my mom, so vividly in my dreams. She's one of the few faces I can remember and she's so clear. She's so beautiful."  "Do people stare?"
"Sometimes. But then I stare back."
He laughs. "Really?"
"Yes, really! I give them a taste of their own medicine."
"God, I love you."
"Love you too."