𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 | 𝚓𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝

𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙙 | 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷/?

[photo: from the god of wii ping pong video | wc: 1,209 | note: this was a really fun request to fulfill and will take place over a few chapters! hope you enjoy! | request: from @CHILD1SH "My boy Schlatt can't see worth sh*t to the point where he has chronic migraines due to the fact. The reader has noticed him squinting and the cupboard overflowing with different pain meds, and it finally dawns upon her when she catches him squinting/taking meds/you decide that maybe he's got bad eyesight. She brings a notebook into play with something stupid wrote on the pages like "your eyes suck" and being stubborn, he only denies the fact he doesn't need to visit the eye doctor. After a lot of convincing, they go to the doctors office and discover not only is he blind and needs prescription glasses but has a blocked tear duct (aka infection) that requires eye drops. It skips to later that night when he's now denying the eye drops because he's one of those people who hates anything in the vicinity of his eyes. Maybe add in a chase or whatever, but she eventually pins him down and forces the eye drops into his eyes after a couple of failures to do so. Another skip to the glasses reveal in the mirror when maybe she's encouraging him that he looks great or whatever - he stops her mid sentence to take notice of the faint freckles on her face for the first time. You can end it however you'd like, preferably wholesome but do you sis"]

When a few hours had passed and you assumed he finished his stream, you slowly opened the door, giving him the opportunity to tell you to not come in if he was still busy. Hearing no protests, you stepped fully in, wondering why he hadn't told you that it was okay. Seeing him holding his head in his hands and rubbing his temples, you soon realized that he didn't know you were standing there.

"Jonathan?" You spoke quietly, but he still jumped slightly in his seat.

"Sh*t, sorry Y/N. I didn't know you were here," he sits up, trying to mask his pain and look as casual as he can. It frightened you that he could so expertly masquerade his pain, worrying that there may have been other times he managed to hide it from you.

"Are you still working?" You took small steps towards him, still unsure if he wanted you to be here.

"No, not really," he winced slightly and rubbed his temple.

"What's wrong? And don't you dare say it's nothing," you waggled your finger at him before you reached him and put your hands on his shoulders.

"Just a headache," he tried to ignore it, but your stern mother-like gaze begged him to correct himself and elaborate, "Okay, okay, it's a bad headache. I think I've just been at the computer too long."

You nodded, accepting his reasoning. Your words were gentle as your hands massaged his shoulders, "do you need me to grab you anything—medicine or water or something?"

"No, I already took something for it. I'll be okay," he placed his head against your stomach as your hands slid from his shoulders to his back and up his neck.

Humming softly, he spoke, "What time is it?"

"It's nearing midnight. Wait," you followed the direction of his head to the clock on the wall, "Do you not know how to read a clock?"

"Of course I do," he spoke as if he were offended and squinted to read the hands, "I was a straight-A student throughout elementary school, I'll have you know."

"Then we need to take you to the eye doctor," you spoke and, while it was originally a joke, the longer you both sat with the thought, the more you realized it wouldn't be a terrible idea.

"No, I don't need to see the doctor," he shook his head as you stepped away to find a piece of paper.

"But you do need the doctor in order to see," you quipped, scribbling a short sentence on the page and holding it up, "What's this say?"

He looked intently at the paper before accepting that it was something he could not do and, unwilling to admit that to you, he concluded, "This is irrelevant. My eyes are fine. They call me Mr. Vision, y'know."

You rolled your eyes and brought the page closer to him until he could read it clearly: Your eyes suck.

"Wow, that's just rude," he feigned offense again.

"Jonathan... Please let me schedule an appointment for you," you were practically begging at this point, "I don't want to see you in pain if there's something I can do to stop it. You'd do the same for me."

He let out a large sigh, absolutely defeated, "Okay, okay. Under one condition."

"Yeah? And what's the condition?" You put the paper on his desk and let your hands return to rest on the back of his neck.

"Nothing can go in or close to my eyes. I'll do any tests they need except if they have to touch or almost touch my eyes," he shivered at the thought.

"I'll see what I can do, but that's not exactly something I can guarantee," you gave him a sympathetic frown, "Though I wish I could."

"I know, I just... You won't be disappointed in me if I can't do it, right? Not that I won't be able to, but... if I weren't you wouldn't think poorly of me or—" he rambled in a moment of sudden vulnerability and insecurity.

"Babe, it would take a hell of a lot more than that to disappoint me," you cut him off and bent down to peck his lips, "Just do whatever you can and that's good enough for me."

You could see the tears welling up, his eyes growing glassy, and he cleared his throat to suppress them, "Thanks..."

"Of course," you ran your fingers absentmindedly through his hair, your heart shattering as he wiped his face to catch a tear before it fell, "It kills me to see you like this..."

"I'll be okay," he chuckled softly, pulling you closer to him and burying his face in your stomach again.

You stood like that for a while, both of you enjoying the simplicity of the moment and the way his head softly pressed into your stomach, occasionally moving with your hands.

After a moment of regrouping your thoughts silently, you spoke, "I'll go make that call. In the meantime, how about you get in bed and I'll join you when I'm done."

He nodded, pulling away from you and staying seated to look at you. While he seemed saddened by the idea of going to the doctor, he couldn't help but joke, "I can't wait to be able to see you."

He stood up, wordlessly reminding you of how much taller than you he was before planting a kiss on the top of your head and walking over to your bed.

You pulled out your phone, stepping out of the room and tried to find the earliest time you were both available, "Tomorrow at 3?"