Overwritten

25 ; Connection

[a/n Thank you, everyone, for your patience and continuous support. This was by far the most emotionally exhausting chapter. Please give me your thoughts. I'm going to be doing a Q + A soon so please leave your questions too! I hope you enjoy this chapter as we begin to get into the true story of Overwritten]

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Shades of red bloomed on my cheeks, eyes desperately trying to read his as I struggled to form a coherent sentence. Seeing my reaction, Scott gripped my hands tighter, his gaze unwavering as he grew closer. I didn't move, I didn't think. His eye narrowed, darting across my face and scrutinizing every movement. After what felt like hours, he, at last, sat back.

"I didn't mean like that," he said quietly, tone blank and gaze now lazily resting on me. His hands still held with mine, but I found myself not pulling away as I thought I might have, merely sitting there in disbelief, "But it would be the best theoretical outcome for everyone. I am aware of your dislike of Jake. I did not mean anything romantically, I meant as... friends. It would be the best outcome..."

"For... for us to be... matched?" I struggled to form the last word, gripping his hands tighter yet not knowing exactly why. For a brief moment, paranoia sent my eyes around the room, wondering if there were any cameras. It was pointless to look. Even if there were, I knew I wouldn't be able to see it. He gave a small smile, some hair brushing in front of his face.

"Yes, given the situation at least," he said it so simply, it took me a moment to register the gravity of what he was saying. He let a sigh escape from between his lips, the air still filled with the strong stench of disinfectant, "Now let me ask you the same question,"

"What?" I blurted, not able to think coherently. I wondered for a brief moment how hard he must have hit his head. Giving a small chuckle, his shoulders loosening slightly, hands still resting with mine. The blush on my face deepened with every passing moment.

"I must admit, it is quite amusing to see you so flustered," as he said this, his glasses slowly slid down the bridge of his nose. Carefully he removed his hand from mine, sliding it back up. He paused for a moment, hesitating before slowly sliding his hand between my fingers again, returning to where it had been.

"Why do you wear glasses?" I asked, surprising myself with the question. Glancing up I was met with my own deep red cheeks reflected in the lens of them. He raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking in the eye that remained. His eyes always looked so interesting when he was curious, almost as if it were a rarity. Then again, not many people were allowed to be curious in a world like this. I continued, stammering over my words in an attempt to justify what I had blurted, "I mean- mean like... with the technology we have, it's almost like you're living in the past... why-why not just, y'know, get your eyes fixed..."

"I suppose," he paused for a moment, weighing it up in his head as if he himself did not know the answer. Not knowing if I should move my hands away, I kept them there, waiting for a sign that he was done with me. He seemed to come to an answer that satisfied him as he continued, "Perhaps it has something to do with sentimental value?"

"Sentimental value?" I repeated, puzzled at what he had said. For a moment, I wondered if I may have misheard him. I looked to the crack in one of the lenses, wondering if they could even be replaced.

"Yes," he gave a slight nod, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth although he almost seemed to be pushing it away. His hands ever so carefully gripped tighter. For a brief moment, his gaze was caught to something in the corner of the room before returning to me not even a second later, "My father made them for me,"

"Your father? Why?" it seemed with every question I asked, the more questions I had, the further from the truth I seemed to get. I remembered his Father, a more messy and older version of Scott. His warehouse had been filled with many various things. And the eyes. The man's eye holding a familiar curiosity, "But why... why gl-"