“A library?” I asked, clutching onto my sight stick. We couldn't afford an electronic sight stick, one of those that made a sound in relative to distance, so this one was one I could just put in front of me, make sure I don't run into things.

“Yeah, I'll drop you off here while I'm at work.” My mother explained. “They have books for you, don't worry.”

I smiled, relieved to hear it. I loved books. There just weren't many I could read, most not having audio files. But when I got up to the library doors, and the clerk led to me the braille section, I was more than thrilled. I felt along the walls, smiling when I found a title that sounded interesting. I found my seat, sitting down and feeling along the pages. I could see it in my head, the gushing of the waves, the men by the sea. I loved books, because their descriptions allowed me to see, allowed me to see something.

I ended up reading tons of books, experiencing thrills from horror to romance.

Romance.

That was something I'd never have the opportunity to engage in. It's not like I hadn't met people, I just didn't want to be a burden to someone. They'd have to worry about taking care of me.

I didn't want that.

That's why I told my mother to forget about college. Once I got through high school, I figured I didn't need it anymore. It would be too much of a burden for my mother to pay for college all by herself.

The visually impaired usually didn't get anything but disabled scholarships.

Even those couldn't pay for a university.

Ever since father died, she'd been working two jobs to support me and all the things I break when walking around the house. I felt terrible, a burden, a useless lump of garbage.

But she'd always tell me how much father loved me, and she did the same.

But I wanted love outside of her and the elderly couple across the street that cared about me.

I wanted romance.

Just like in these novels.

But the desire to not be a burden was stronger.

It was too soon that my mother came from work, taking me home. I checked out a few books, reading them in the car, and even at the dinner table. It felt good to be able to read them, instead of hear them. I could imagine the narrators voice, imagine the sights. It was like a dream.

I went to the library every day, reading every book on the shelf. The librarian even had to order more braille books for me to read. I just couldn't stop reading! It felt so good to experience such thrills I could never experience before!

But today's thrill was not one I was expecting.

It was my twentieth visit to the library, on the dot. I was sitting and enjoying a book, when I felt someone bump into my chair, successfully knocking it over and sending me crashing into the floor. I just froze, my heart pounding in my chest.

“C-C-Could you h-help m-me u-up?” I asked, and I heard a sigh. I didn't feel anything, but I heard a foot tapping.

“Come on, grab my hand.” A deep, crisp voice rang in my ears.

It was definitely one I couldn't forget.

It flowed like chocolate, yet rasped like a growl. It was deep, vibrating my chest.

“I-I can't see it.” I whispered, and there was a frustrated puff of air, and I was pulled up by a strength I wasn't expecting, but I bowed nonetheless. I bended over, feeling for my stick. Once I had a hold on it, I felt to the table, feeling someone jerk my arm and pull me into my seat.

“You blind?” The voice asked, and I nodded.

“I am.” I confirmed.

“No wonder you're back here.” The voice mumbled.

“C-Could I have your name?” I asked, “I associate voices with names.”

“Yongguk.” He responded, and I smiled, taking a mental note of it.

I felt a chair being pulled up and I felt a hand around my wrist. I just let the hand take me, landing on something that felt like felt. I realized it was my book and just smiled. “Thank you.” I whispered, and Yongguk's voice responded.

“Sure.”

I just smiled, opening my book, feeling along the bottom until I got to the right page number. I began reading, only to stop when his voice flowed to my ears again.

“What's it like?” He asked.

“What's what like?” I questioned.

“Not being able to see.”

I sighed, “I don't know what it's like to see, so I don't know how to explain it.”

“You were born disabled?” He asked, and I shook my head.

I nodded, though I didn't think of this as a disability.

“You run into things a lot, right?”

I bit my lip, “Not if I know the area well.” I explained.

“Isn't it strange to hear me but not see what I look like?” He asked.

I had to admit, his curiosity was a little rude, and it slightly hurt my feelings at the blunt nature of his words, but I just kept answering his questions. “I'm great at visualizing. So if I got a description I could visualize you.” I explained.

“I guess I should be thankful for my ability to see then?” He mumbled. “Gives me an advantage.”

I smiled, “You should be thankful for everything in life. I mean you only get one, right?”

Yongguk ended up coming to my table at the library every day. He'd talk about how much he hated books, and he'd come up with more questions to ask. He'd tell me about his best friend, Himchan, and how he was only at the library because he needed to do better on his college exams.

“How's college?” I asked him, and he just sighed.

“It's hard. Especially at an Arts college like I go to. Majoring in music is difficult.” He explained. “But I have Himchan, so I'm all right.” He chuckled each time he mentioned his friend. It seemed as if Himchan was the only person he really cared about.

Girls would come in with him on occasions. He would treat them poorly, tell them to leave while he was studying. I would even hear the girl whimper or whine, a smack ringing throughout the library.

When the girl would leave, I'd always ask him, “Do you care about her?”

He'd reply with a laugh, “As long as she does what she's supposed to in bed then I can care less.”

It was kind of heartbreaking to hear how much he used those girls, but there was nothing I could do about it. He was just as rude to me sometimes, so I figured he was just raised that way.

But he did one thing that I definitely appreciated.

He kept his hand on me, at all times. He'd loop our arms when he was reading, or just rest his hand on my shoulder. It was warm, his way of letting me know he hadn't left.

I was glad for it. It was nice to have his company. I liked him. He was funny at times, though occasionally he'd slip up and remark something about my eyesight. It hurt, but he always said something to make up for it.

But as the days went on, his rude nature seemed to disappear. He'd come in, immediately ask me if I was all right, if I slept well. My hand would be warm when he wrapped his around it, asking me if I needed anything, what book I wanted to read that day. My mouth would curve into an involuntarily smile when he talked about what he did that day. He'd use vivid words, ask me if I could visualize it.

He even rapped to me one day. He asked if I would listen to the song he was working on, and I told him that I would. He rapped quietly enough for the clerk not to be mad, but I heard it clear as day.

And it was beautiful.

His deep, baritone voice flowing in such a way that I wanted to listen to it forever.

On that same day, he had told me he didn't have any girls anymore. He told me that hanging out with me has got him realizing he should appreciate things more. He told me he wanted to be kind to people, wanted to be gentle, but he never knew how growing up.

When I told him he was doing a good job, he pulled me into an embrace.

A spark seemed to fly in my chest. His hair tickled my cheek, his strong arms holding onto me securely. I felt like there was nothing in this world that could get me. I was safe. I could feel his fingertips dancing along my back softly, my skin tingling beneath his fingers.

“Come on, hug me, babo.” He had chuckled, his breath hot against my neck. I just smiled, reaching up and patting softly, finding his muscular back. I wrapped my arms around him, smiling at the warmth that radiated off of him.

My mother gave me hugs all the time, but it didn't feel like this.

It wasn't warm, didn't make me feel safe.

The next day at the library, Yongguk didn't come. It worried me. I thought about him the whole time, not being able to concentrate on the books. The only thing on my mind was him.

Was he all right?

Is he doing well on his college exams?

Is he hanging with Himchan?

The thought of him hanging out with his best friend angered me for a reason I couldn't understand, but I just hoped he wasn't.

But my thoughts were cut off by an arm looping in mine, and the squeak the chair always made when someone sat down.

“It's late, isn't it?” I asked, and I heard his luscious, baritone chuckle.

“Yeah, but don't worry, your mom's not coming to get you today.” He said, and I just furrowed my brows in confusion. I felt him gently tug on my arm, and I stood in response. I gasped softly when he pulled me into another embrace, his palms flat on the small of my back, creating a patch of pleasant heat. I was able to visualize him better when I felt his chin rest on the top of my head. I was able to judge his height accurately. “You gonna hug me back?” He asked, his chin gently rubbing against my head as his mouth moved.

I just smiled, my hands reaching up, finding his arms covered by leather sleeves, and I rounded them around his back, holding onto him tightly. “W-Who's taking me home?” I asked, feeling the rumble of his laughter against my face.

“You're not going home.” He mumbled.

“Where am I going?” I asked, and he laughed softly again.

“I'm taking you out to eat.” He explained, his hand sliding off my back. Warmth was brought to my hand when he slid his in mine, sliding out of the embrace to gently pull me along. I followed, folding my sight stick up and putting it in my pocket. I didn't need it now.

He was my eyes.

I heard a car door open, a crisp sound of a new car, not like the ragged sound of my mother's. I was set in a seat, a soft one, one I felt I could sleep in. The seat belt was trapped in around me. The smell of the car was the smell of Yongguk, sweet with a hint of sweat. I liked it. I liked it a lot.

“This is a new car?” I asked when I heard a door shut.

“Yeah, how'd you know?” He asked, reaching over to gently rest his hand over mine.

“It feels new.” I mumbled, and he just squeezed my hand gently. I heard the engine rev, and the car started to move. It was a comfortable silence, Yongguk's hand on mine, my head leaning against the window. The music was soft, an artist of a language I recognized as English, but couldn't understand. When the car jerked slightly as it braked, I waited for Yongguk to reach over and click my seatbelt free before I reached for the door handle. I opened it, about to get out, but Yongguk beat me to it, grabbing my arm gently and helping me up.

We walked in a restaurant, I assume, as the scent of freshly cooked meat boomed through my senses. The aromas of deserts and meals was so pleasant I almost felt like I was in heaven. “Table for two, please.” I heard Yongguk mumbled, and a high voice soon followed.

“Come with me.”

I just let Yongguk pull me gently, his arm looped around my waist. He set me down, a booth, soft and comfortable. I felt his legs stretch over to mine beneath the table, his leg leaning against mine. “I'm Linji and I'll be your waitress today, what can I get you to drink?” The familiar, high pitched voice announced.

Linji. I'll remember that.

“They've got all sorts of sodas, and lemonade, and water. You like lemonade, right?” Yongguk asked. I nodded, smiling. “All right, a lemonade for him, and a coca for me.”

“I'll be back in a bit with your drinks and to take your order.” Linji announced, and her heels cracking against the floor grew softer as she left the table.

Yongguk started naming off the dishes they had, asking me which ones sounded good. I had finally decided when he listed off them all, giggling. I had never been out to eat before. My mother would always cook at home. It was a fun experience, to just be out with someone.

Almost like a date.

Those dates I read about in my books, where the boy pays for the girl's meal, and they hold hands as he walks her to home.

Linji came back and Yongguk ordered for us both, and the sound of her heels let me know when she was gone again. I was ready for the comfortable silence, but Yongguk grabbed both of my hands in his, and words flowed in my ears, “I-I need to talk to you, about something.”

“Okay.” I mumbled.

“I-I like you, Daehyunnie.” He whispered, squeezing my hands tighter.

“I like you, too.” I whispered.

“No, I mean, I really like you.” He whispered. I waited for him to finish, feeling my cheek grow hot. “I-I'm in love...with you.” He said softly, and I felt my cheeks and ears burning.

It seemed in this moment I could see.

Just for a moment. I could see the sincerity in his eyes, the emotion written across his face.

I swore that for just a moment.

I saw him.

And he was beautiful.

“I-I...”

I couldn't even speak.

All I could do was cry.

I banged my head on the table.

And I cried.

I didn't know what to do.

I didn't know if I should appreciate this moment and seize it, be happy, or if I should run, run away so I wouldn't be a burden.

“Don't, Yongguk-hyung, don't do that!” I said harshly, taking my hands from his. I wiped my eyes before looking up at him. “Don't you know you'll be stuck taking care of me all your life if you do that?! You'll be stuck in an endless cycle of not being able to enjoy things because I can't see!”

“Stop.” His voice was rough, gravely, nothing like I've heard before. I stopped, a lump forming in my throat. “You can see. You can see me, can't you?”

“What are you--”

“What color is my hair?” He asked.

“R-Red.” I mumbled.

“My eyes?” He asked.

“D-Deep brown.” I answered.

“My skin?”

“Tan.”

“My height.”

“Around 175 to 180 centimeters.”

“My hands?”

“Slender.”

“My jawline?”

“Sharp.”

“My heart.”

“Beautiful.” I whispered, even more tears pouring out of my eyes.

“See, Daehyun-ah?” He whispered, grabbing my face in his hands. “You see me.”

“I do.” I whispered, “I do. I see you.”

“I want to be with you.” He whispered, his thumb wiping across my cheek, the warmth pushing aside the cold tears.

“You're just playing with me.” I argued, nothing in me wanting to believe this was real.

I was blind.

I was unfortunate.

I didn't get what I wanted.

“I'm not.” He whispered. “I told you, I don't do that anymore. I can't.” He sighed, his forehead falling on mine. “You changed me, Jung Daehyun. I love you.”

“You're lying.” I whispered.

“I promise you.” He said softly, his lips plush against my cheek. “There is no way I would lie to you.”

My heart was speeding against my chest, my breath unstable, my mind hazy. His lips were like heaven against my skin, kissing away the tears that I couldn't stop spilling over. My arms were helpless against his, feeble at pushing him away. I just gave in, letting them fall in my lap.

“Hyung...” I mumbled feebly. “...stop kissing me.”

But he didn't, his lips continuing to press gently against my face.

“Hyung...” I giggled, “..I love you, too.” I said softly, so softly I hardly heard myself.

But by the way his lips fell from my cheek to my lips, I knew he had.

It was soft, embracing my lips in a protective hold. It was gentle, and there.

Right there.

I could see him again.

I didn't know what to do, so I just let my lips dance with his, in an experience only those in the books got to indulge in.

But it didn't matter that I was blind.

Because he was right.

I could see just fine.

THE END.