Ok, quick note. There is implied USxUK in this chapter, and there is a little bit more in the next few. There is also implied PruCan which is also delved into a little more. I promise things won't get too bad, just a kiss here or there. I'm just warning you in case you don't like yaoi or don't ship them together. If you do, please just continue reading!

I'm not really sure if blind people can do this, but I just kinda made it fit :D I can see myself doing this if I ever went blind. I know blind people can't actually 'see' things, but I imagine being able to picture someone in my head if I was able to feel there face. Just my imagine running wild again I suppose :D

Oh, and one more thing, Francis' spelling is off because of his accent, they don't prnounce h's at all, so that's why there are apostraphies. and then the th sound is a z. The spelling is like it is for a reason. I wanted to do Gilbert's as well, but I wasn't sure how to do a German accent. If someone wants to inform me I can go back and fix it :D Ok, I'm done now!

I felt through my backpack, trying to find my lunchbox. I grabbed the handle and felt for the table. I set my lunch down on the smooth surface and felt for the zipper. I opened it and blindly reached for my food and started eating. I'd learned real quick to keep all my stuff close by or else it'd get taken. People were just mean that way.

I knew I was alone. I didn't need to be able to see to know this. I was a loner, even when I had my sight. I would sit by myself and watch people walk by me, not even trying to resist throwing me dirty looks. At least now I couldn't see the looks they gave me. I adjusted the dark glasses on my nose and finished eating. I knew they were dark because the doctor at the hospital had told me. It was so I didn't freak people out with the way my eyes looked now.

I shoved the lunchbox back into my bag and sat. I didn't have anything else to do. I couldn't read anymore. I couldn't draw, or write, or do anything. I listened to talk and chatter around me, letting the sun warm me from the cool breeze that was blowing through the open lunchroom. That was one good thing about sitting outside.

I heard the bell ring to leave for the next class and I stood up. I sat in the same spot every day and knew my way around fairly well by now. I walked forward, gently tapping my walking stick in front of me, searching for any obstacles blocking my path. I heard the shuffle of feet and doors opening and closing. I continued my slow trek forward until something smacked into the back of my legs. Hard.

I fell forward, my hands thrown in of me. My head struck something, probably a bench, as I fell and hit the ground. I dropped my walking stick and my glasses flew off my nose. I heard them skitter away as the person who tripped me snickered and ran off. I sat up slowly, wincing at the throbbing pain in my wrist and rubbed my head. I sniffed and wiped my eyes. Why am I crying? I though miserably. I should be used to this by now.

I felt around, holding my wrist to my chest until the cool metal of my walking stick was under my fingers. Now my walking stick. I crawled around on my hand and knees, trying to keep the tears from pouring out of my eyes. I heard the bell ring again and I sighed. Another late class period. At least it's the last one.

"Are you looking for zese ma chѐrie?" I heard a thick accent to my left. I looked down and tried to stand up, hoping he had my glasses. "If I may ask, why are zey so dark?" I steadied myself and looked up at him. I knew my eyes would give it away immediately. The _ irises used to be bright, shining and beautiful. My eyes used to be the only thing I liked about myself. The beautiful color was now dull and glazed over. They were a dim _ now and had a grayish film covering them with dark circles permanently ringing them.

"Can't you tell?" I asked shakily, irritation lacing my light tone. I'm glad I can't see his face. I'm glad I can't see the surprise and sudden pity in his eyes. I don't want his pity or anybody else's. That's why I shoved myself away from the world and everybody in it. I don't want sympathy or pity from anybody. I can take care of myself and I don't need anybody else's help. I don't care about pities and sympathies. I want a friend. Someone who will actually care for me and what happens to me. Somebody who will take me for who I am, with or without my sight. I bring my fingers up, wiping my eyes.

"Yes, I can," he said softly, no trace of pity at all. I finally recognized the thick accent. It's French and I only knew one guy in this school with a French accent and it was buy his reputation.

"Francis?" I asked, looking down and trying to control my shaking.

"Oui, ma chѐrie. Francis Bonnefoy at your service," he said, a bit of his ego slipping into his voice. I'd definitely heard about Francis Bonnefoy. He was a womanizer and would sleep with any girl he could get his fingers on. I remembered seeing him a few times but couldn't bring up an image of the Frenchman. He just wants sex, he doesn't want to be friends. "And you are?"

"_ _, now may I please have my glasses back?" I asked, reaching my hand out blindly for my glasses. He grabbed my wrist and I hissed in pain, snatching my hand away.

"Ma chѐrie, what's wrong?" he asked hurriedly. The tears that sprung to my eyes this time were out of pain.

"M-my wrist. I must've twisted it when I fell," I muttered. I winced as I gently probed the injured area.

"Would you like me to take you to ze nurse?" he asked sweetly, lightly placing my glasses in my hand. I could hear the honey in his voice. I was about to shake my head, but realized I wouldn't be able to do anything if he left me there. I was disorientated and didn't know which direction my next class was in. I didn't even know how to get to the nurses office if I wanted to, and by the feel in my wrist I needed to go.

"If you wouldn't mind," I said politely, placing the dark glasses in front of my eyes. I could sense him smiled and he looped His arm through mine.

"I don't mind at all," he said cheerfully. Why is this guy helping me? Isn't he like really popular or something? And if he wanted to get in my pants, why would he want to do it with a blind girl? Question after question raced through my mind as I tightened my grip on my bag and shrunk my walking stick into its compact size and stuffed it in my bag. WE started forward and I heard a door open and felt warm air waft over my skin. We're inside. As we walked down the deserted halls I listened intently to the sounds of our feet Echoing off the walls.

"Thank you," I said suddenly. I couldn't tell if he was looking at me or not. "I would've been stuck out there if you hadn't come along." I looked down, not seeing the floor passing under my feet. A warm hand landed on my shoulder and I raised my head.

"You are a very smart girl, ma chѐrie. I believe you could 'ave done it," he said. My blind eyes widened for a moment as I reached up and idly tugged on my earlobe.

"Thank you, Francis," I whispered. I felt him move closer and then a pair of lips was on my cheek. I could feel light stubble scratching against my jaw.

"De rien, ma chѐrie," he grinned. I could feel heat rush into my cheeks as I blush bright crimson. I should've stopped thinking right there, but my brain just wouldn't let me. I couldn't help but wonder if he might actually care. Could it be possible he wanted to get to know me and actually be my friend... I shook my head, trying to dispel the thought. He was a womanizer who just wanted to get in my pants. But what if… Ugh! "We're 'ere," Francis announced a few minutes later.

He led me into the office and the nurse looked at my hands. She said it was simply sprained and wrapped it in what I think was an ace bandage. I was told not to use it for the next few days and ice it twice a day for twenty minutes. I nodded, feeling woozy. I also remembered hitting my head and told her. She quickly checked to see if I had a concussion. I heard a sigh of relief and she simply told me there was a small bump and that I should ice that as well. I gave a small and thanked her and Francis helped out of the office.

"So, ma chѐrie, where do you want to go?" Francis asked politely. I blinked, not seeing what was in front of me.

"I figure I just need to get to my last class," I said, wishing I could just go home and sleep. It'd been a long day.

"'Mm. I guess we could do zat," he said, drawing out the silence. I heard another door opened and cool, afternoon air blew around me. I could hear cars a ways ahead of me, driving by. The parking lot? "Or we could leave a little early and go for a drive," he suggested. I mused over it, thinking about my options. I could stay and go to my last period class and ride the bus home, or… I could stay with Francis, get a ride home, and maybe… possibly make a friend.

"Alright, sounds good." I smiled in what I hoped in his direction. "Can I hold your hand?" I asked innocently, "just to get to your car?"

"Why of course," he said his smile evident in his voice. He grabbed my uninjured hand and laced his fingers through mine. "Right zis way." I couldn't help but grin as he led me to his car. I heard a car door open and he gently helped me into the seat. I could still feel the sun on my skin and hear everything around me.

"Convertible?" I asked as I listened to him walk around and jump into the driver's side.

"Very nice mademoiselle," he chuckled and started the car.

"What color?" I asked as I listened to the hum of the engine. I ran my fingers blindly along the outside.

"Blue," he replied and pulled out of the lot. "So, where do you want to go?" he repeated as we rode along. I finally took my bag off my shoulder and set it in floor board.

"Hm. Does Wellston Trails sound alright?" I asked.

"Sounds lovely," he said. "It is ze perfect place to go on such a beautiful day." I smiled, silently agreeing with him. This was wonderful. I'd never ridden in a car like this before with anyone, especially with someone like Francis. I leaned back and drowned out all the excess sound, closing my blind eyes and just basking the amazing feeling of freedom. Of what life could actually be like. I was letting all my protective walls crumble so easily. I'd wanted something like this my whole life.

"Thank you for everything Francis," I said, hoping the wind rushing through my _ hair would yank my words away before he could hear them. A large warm hand covered my own.

"You're welcome _," he said, his voice soft and kind. I sat up, my eyes squeezed shut. As I opened them, I'd never wanted to see someone more. We drove along in silence until I felt the car slow to a stop.

"We're 'ere, ma chѐrie," Francis said. I heard him hurry out of the car as I fumbled with the door handle. "Let me," he said, suddenly in my ear and opening the door. I giggled as he took my hand and helped me out. I leaned down quickly for my bag and reached in. My fingers closed around my walking stick and I pulled it out, slipping it into my back pocket. I heard the slam of the car door and felt his arm slip through mine.

He led me through the woods down the path towards the small park I knew was at the end. I'd been down the trail while I still had my eyesight. We walked for a bit, talking softly admiring the nature around us, well, I listened to it, before it hit me. I barely knew Francis, except by his reputation, and I was walking with him through a rather secluded forest. It was so sudden that became momentarily dizzy and stumbled.

"_?" Francis asked worriedly. I shook my head, pushing my glasses back up my nose.

"I'm alright. Just dizzy," I said, trying to regain my balance and praying that it would just go away. That was probably the worst part of being blind. Something would hit me so sudden that I just became dizzy and I couldn't do anything to try and make it go away. It would have to fade on its own and sometimes it would be absolutely horrible, especially when it hit so fast and sudden that I became nauseous. Like now. "Is there anywhere to sit down?" I asked, trying to take deep, slow breathes.

"Oui," he said softly and gently tugged on my arm. He set me down on a bench, I believe, and I immediately leaned forward, holding my head in my hands. I squeezed my eyes shut even though it didn't make much of a difference. I shivered slightly, my breathing extremely shaky. I didn't want to be sick, no in front of Francis. "_," he said, placing a light hand on my back. "What's wrong?" I could feel the nausea fading slightly and the cloud clearing somewhat from my head.

"I… I just got really dizzy. It can be really bad sometimes, but I think I'm alright now," I said, sitting up and rubbing my temples.

"Are you sure?" he asked, placing a hand on my forehead. I blushed at the contact and nodded, about to reassure him but the interruption of the Captain America Theme song cut me off.

"Un moment, ma chѐrie," he told him. I figured he had to answer his phone. "Bonjour Alfred. What is it?" he asked. I heard mutters on the other end. "I 'ad a… situation to attend to. Why?" More static talk, this time quite a bit longer. "Why don't we all get togezer at ze usual place and you can all meet 'er for yourself?" At this I looked up in his general direction, alarmed. I was about to protest but a finger silenced my lips. "Alright, yes. Sounds good. We'll be zere soon. Au revoir." He hung up and removed his finger.

"What was that about?" I asked hurriedly, trying not to shout. I heard the leaves crunch under his feet as he stood up.

"Zat, ma chѐrie," he said, grabbing my hands and pulling me up, "is ze sound of opportunity!" I didn't even have the time to ask what kind of opportunity!

Francis practically had to drag me out. He threatened to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder, but I absolutely refused. He helped me back into the car and we were off. Wherever we were headed, he sure was in a hurry. This is when I finally decided to call my dad and tell him I'd be home a little later.

We stopped suddenly, making the car and me jerk forward.
"Oof! Where are we?" I asked, unbuckling my seat belt.

"McDonald's," Francis replied distastefully. "Alfred insists on coming 'ere every afternoon even after we've 'ad lunch." He helped me once more out of the car and led me across the restaurants parking lot. I heard the door ring as he opened it and warm air that smelled like grease and potatoes surrounded me.

"Hey! Francis! You made it, and you brought a friend!" an energetic voice called from across the room. It didn't sound like to many people were occupying the room. I wrapped my arms tightly around one of the Francis'. I'd never been much of a people person and I didn't know what they'd think of me. I tried to walk slightly behind Francis, but he held me tight to his side.

"Ohonhon! Of course I made it!" the Frenchman said, puffing out his chest. He led me through the restaurant towards his friends. "Boys, I would like you to meet _," Francis introduced me. I blushed furiously, ducking my head. What would these guys think when they found out that I couldn't see? Francis helped me sit down in a booth so I was squished between him and one of his friends.

"Vhy hello zere. I bet it's a pleasure to be meeting ze awesome me!" a male voice said in front of me and to my left. He had a thick German accent. I smirked and rolled my eyes behind my glasses. I didn't know if I was hearing thing or what, but I swear there was a soft… cheeping sound.

"Oh of course," I said, sarcasm dripping from my words. all the boys laughed and I grinned shyly.

"I'm Gilbert, and zis here is Matthew," the voice said. I nodded, pretending to see Matthew. They still didn't know.

"Hello Matthew," I said, praying I was looking in the right direction. Before he could respond, a Spanish accent interrupted.

"Hola señorita! It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo," he said, taking my hand and kissing it. I giggled and nodded.

"Nice to meet you," I replied smiling. Someone shifted to my right and I turned my head slightly.

"My name's Arthur and the git beside you is Alfred," a British accent said next. I chuckled as the person right next to me whined.

"I'm not a git! I'm the hero and you didn't let me do my hero bit!" the same voice from earlier, Alfred, that had called to Francis replied. I heard the muffled sound of flesh on the back of a head. I laughed again and turned towards Alfred.

"It's ok, go ahead and do your hero bit," I said, curious as to what this guy had planned.

"You really shouldn't encourage 'im," Francis whispered teasingly in my ear. I smiled and listened as Alfred threw an arm around me.

"The name's Jones. Alfred F. Jones," he said in deep voice. I burst out laughing, along with the rest of the guys at the table.

"Very good! I loved it!" I told him, grinning.

"See! Somebody gets good acting!" he told his buddies. They all sighed and I guessed that most of them rolled their eyes as well. I felt Alfred turn back to me. "So uh, _, what's up with the dark shades?" he asked me. I sighed as I felt the smile slowly slide off my face. Francis gently squeezed my hand, signaling it was okay. I just knew somebody was going to ask that.

"I… I'm blind, you guys," I whispered softly. It was absolute torture having to sit there and wait for someone to tell me to leave.

"Vell zis just isn't acceptable!" Gilbert said suddenly, I think the cheeping sounds got even louder, making me jump, "she cannot see ze awesome me! Ve must fix zis!" I looked up, scared that they were going to kick me out, but Francis simply chuckled.

"Sometimes, 'is ego is bigger zan Al's," he whispered in my ear. I tentatively lifted my hand and touched the Frenchman's shoulder. I felt my way up his neck to his ear. I leaned in a whispered.

"Aren't they going to make me leave?" I asked. I hadn't realized how quiet it was until I could sense everyone looking at me.

"_, why would we make you leave?" Arthur asked. I felt heat rush to my face.

"Cause' I can't see," I mumbled, bending my head.

"Señorita. Just because you can't see is not a reason to make you leave," Antonio told me. All the others murmured their agreement and a new voice spoke up.

"He's right. Just because you're blind doesn't make you bad, just different." The voice was soft and kind and had a slight… Canadian accent? It must've been Matthew. I hadn't even realized that I'd started crying.

"T-thank," I said, rubbing under my eyes. Francis pulled me close and kissed my temple." You guys are the first people to even think of being my friends."

"Are you kidding me?! You're amazing! Even if we just met you, you're amazing!" Alfred cried, throwing an arm over my shoulders. I laughed along with the guys. "Heck, I don't know how one of didn't find you sooner." I grinned at them. They all really wanted to be my friends. I finally had people that cared, friends that I could depend on.

"Ve still have a problem! _ is still unable to see ze awesome me!" Gilbert interrupted. I rolled my eyes and leaned over the table.

"Come here," I instructed, reaching my hand out.

"_, ma chѐrie, your 'and," Francis said. I looked towards my hand, seeing nothing. "Ze bandage." I nodded in realization. I'd completely forgotten about my wrist. I moved it around, hardly even wincing.

"It feels alright. Would you take it off Francis?" I asked. He must of nodded because he grabbed my arm and unwound the fabric. "Thank you," I said and looked back in Gilbert's direction. "Now, come here," I said.

"Um, alright," he replied uncertainly. I felt him sensed forward until his cheek was under my pal,. I took my other hand and was about to reach out, but paused.

"Do you mind if I take my glasses?" I asked. "Sometimes my eyes weird people out and I just want to make sure it's alright."

"Sure, vhy not?" he said. I grinned, shaking my head before removing the dark sunglasses. I lifted my hand again.

"I don't know what color you hair or eyes are. Somebody tell me," I said, gently running my fingers along Gilbert's smooth jaw and cheekbones.

"He's got silvery white hair and deep, garnet red eyes," Matthew said softly. "He's also got pale white skin." I quirked an eyebrow as I continued my search, tracing his lips, nose and eyes.

"Albino?" I asked, running my fingers over his forehead and brushing the hair hanging over forehead.

"Oh yea!" Gilbert replied proudly. I smiled. I was about to remove my hand when something sharp stabbed my finger.

"Ouch! What was that?" I cried, yanking my hand back. I stuck the injured digit in my mouth, letting the pain slowly ebb away.

"Gilbird! Zat vas so unawesome!" Gilbert said sternly, chastising something.

"Gilbird?" I said nervously, removing my finger from my mouth. A few of the boys muttered something while Francis explained.

"'E keeps ze most annoying little bird around and it likes to stay in 'is 'air. It's bright yellow and a little bitty zing," he told me. I gave a disbelieving look but shrugged.

"All done then, I guess" I said. "I think I can see you pretty well," I told him smiling. Gilbert had a firm jaw with prominent cheek bones. I tried picturing all the details in my head, including Gilbird sitting atop his white hair. He was fairly good looking, excluding the small yellow bird. "Anyone else?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.

"M-may I?" Matthew asked softly. I smiled warmly and motioned for him to lean forward. My hands met his cheek and as they began roving his features, Gilbert described his appearance.

"He has light brown hair, vith a curly cowlick und bright, violet, amethyst eyes," he told me almost lovingly. I wondered distractedly if something was going one between the two. I felt Matthew's cheeks and nose. His face was a little rounder than most and I supposed he still had some of his baby fat. He 'looked' rather cute.

"And his skin?" I asked, running my fingers through his hair, searching for his cowlick.

"Just ze normal peachy color. Not to dark, not to light," I heard the smile in Gil's voice. I found the cowlick and ran my finger over it. It had a single curl. I felt Matthew stiffen slightly under my touch. I heard the Prussian and Alfred laugh.

"All done!" I grinned, pulling away. "Freaked out yet?" I asked laughing.

"Just a bit unnerved," he mumbled. I chuckled and nodded my head understandingly.

" Yea, sorry about that. My daddy told me how… off my eyes look now," I said and tapped my glasses. "It's why I wear these." I smiled and gave a little shrug." So, who's next?" I asked, turning towards the remaining three. I felt Alfred shrug beside me.

"Heck, why not?" he said. I smiled and turned towards him. "Should I take my glasses off?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I'll do that," I said, reaching forward blindly, "helps me get a better picture." A large hand grabbed my own and pressed a warm cheek into my palm. "Gosh Al, you feel like you're burning up," I said, moving my fingers nimbly along his throat, jaw and chin. He had a kind of a rounded jaw and noticeable cheekbones.

"I'm just naturally hot," he smirked. I rolled my eyes and Arthur smacked him in the back of the head again. "Ow, Iggy!" he whined. Another smack.

"Don't call me that, prat," the Brit muttered. I laughed, working my way up to his lips, nose and temple. There was absolutely no baby fat. His cheeks and entire facial structure felt so familiar. I found his glasses and took them off carefully.

"Are you and Matthew brothers?" I asked curiously. I felt his eyes widened in surprise.

"Yea, we're twins. How'd you know?" he inquired, awe thickening his voice.

"The shape of your both cheekbones, your jaws and the structure of your faces as a whole are very, very similar," I said simply. I felt his mouth gaping as I opened my own again. "What are your eye and hair color?" I asked. This time Arthur answered for Alfred.

"He has bright, azure, too blue eyes. His hair is a dark, golden blonde with a very stubborn cowlick and he's got dark, sun kissed skin," the Brit said admiringly. I scrunched my eyebrows together. These two as well? I rubbed my hand along his forehead and came across the stubborn cowlick. I ran my finger along and heard Matthew laugh across from me and heard Arthur chuckle as Alfred shivered violently. I quirked my head to the side.

"I'll explain later ma chѐrie," Francis whispered, sensing my curiosity. I nodded and let my hand slide down Alfred face once more. This guy was more than handsome. He was hot… like really hot! I handed him his glasses.

"I think I've got a pretty good image," I smiled and reached for my glasses.

"_." I turned my head towards Arthur.

"Yea?" I said, blinking and wishing for the second time that day that I could actually see the people around me.

"Could you see me?" he asked. I smiled and raised my thin fingers. I jumped as a large hand gripped my wrist suddenly. I winced a little as he grabbed the sprained area. A hand was on my shoulder and Francis was reaching from behind me. I was so confused as to what was going on around me. I listened to quiet whisperings as my hand was released and then there was a sudden shifting.

"Sorry. Al just sometimes doesn't know 'is own strength," Francis' French accent was heavy in my ear. Everyone at the table was either snickering or sighing.

"Is… everything alright?" I asked uncertainly, sensing tension.

"Yes, everything's fine. Sorry about that," Arthur replied, now right in front of me.

"It's alright. You ready?" I reached my hand out tentatively. He grabbed my hand with thin fingers and placed it on the right side of his jaw and nodded. As my fingers probed along his cheeks and eyes, whoa, really thick eyebrows, I leaned my head to the side.

"He has brilliant, luminous emerald eyes with bright, messy blonde hair," Alfred said, realizing I needed information. "He has fair, very pale skin," he finished for me. I finished analyzing, stroking his cheeks and forehead one more and came to the conclusion he was very handsome.

"You are all very good looking," I said. They all bust out laughing and I joined them. "Antonio, how about you?" I asked.

"No señorita. I'll let you keep guessing at my amazing good looks," he said. I laughed as someone leaned over and smacked him.

We talked and chatted for most of the evening and Antonio finally let me 'see' him. He had dark eyes and skin, with thick, curly brown hair. He had a slender face, sort of like Arthur's. He was handsome in his own way. They told me a little about their lives and I told them about my accident.

I'd always had bad eyes. I'd unfortunately inherited them from my mother, and I had slowly started to lose what little bit of good eyesight I had left. I'd had to wear glasses for most of my life. My mother died when I still very young of a rare liver disease, so my dad, unfortunately, had to help me do a lot of my growing up.

He came home one night a couple of months ago, and he was drunk. My daddy didn't drink often, and even when he did, he hardly ever got drunk. That night, however, was an exception.

He daddy had come staggering into the house, reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. His buddy's had taken him out again and talked him into drinking. He'd slammed the door shut and startled me. I was sittin' by the fireplace reading when he stumbled in, hollering for my mama. I'd seen my daddy drunk only once before and that was right after my mother died, and I was so young, I'd simply huddled under my bed waiting for him to sober up.

This time I simply tried to go to him and calm him down. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and yelled. He screamed that it was all my fault my mama was dead. I knew it wasn't true and that it was just the whiskey talking, but it still hurt. I'd wiped at the few tears in my eyes and he told me to stop being such a baby. He went and drew his hand back and slapped me hard across the front of my face.

My glasses shattered upon impact, throwing glass right into my eyes. My dad's hand was sliced up pretty bad as well, but he was too drunk to notice. I couldn't do anything but cry and whimper on the floor, just begging for the pain to stop. That was the only time in my life that I'd ever wanted to die, because the burning pain in my eyes was so terrible. It felt as if needles were slowly being pushed, one by one into my eyes. My dad finally got a hold of himself long enough to realize what had happened and to call someone. He couldn't stop apologizing.

A neighbor finally came to help and drove up as fast as they could to the hospital. They had to knock me out immediately to extract the glass shards. I don't remember much except praying that my daddy didn't say anything about what happened to the doctors. I knew that if he did, there would be definitely possibilities of me being taken away from him, and he was the only family I had left. I couldn't leave my father all by himself, and I knew I wouldn't be able to go on if they took him from me.

I woke up to total darkness at who knows when later on. My eyes were closed and I couldn't open them. They ached and throbbed, but I'd handled worse. I was about to start freaking out and start crying when someone grabbed my hand. It was the doctor. He calmed me down and asked me what had happened. It hit me then and I realized something even before the doctor had to tell me.

I explained to him that my dad had come home rather tipsy and I was going to help him to bed, but I tripped. I'd landed on my face and my glasses broke. My dad immediately dropped down next to me to try to help and cut his hands in the process.

The doctor told me they'd stitched up his hands but he wouldn't be able to do anything too strenuous for a while. He asked me if I wanted to see him. I nodded but stopped him before he could leave. I asked him why I couldn't open my eyes even though I knew the answer. He paused and explained to me that the glass had cut my eyes too bad. I sighed, feeling tears come to my eyes and simply said, I wasn't going to be able to see again, was I? He told me no and went to get my father.

My dad felt absolutely horrible. He couldn't stop apologizing and he couldn't stop crying even though I was the one that couldn't see. I told him what I'd told the doctor and to go along with it. He agreed nervously and swore never to drink again. So far he's kept to his word. It took me a little while to get used to everything, but I eventually settled into my new life. I'd pushed everybody away because I knew what they thought of me until Francis came along.

"And now I know all of you," I finished softly. I could sense the gapes and stares. I'd never told anybody what had happened and now I was telling a group of guys my entire, pathetic story.

"_," Arthur and couple of other whispered. I sighed shakily and leaned into Francis for support. He wrapped an arm around my waist and held me close. I hardly knew the boy, but I felt so close to him for some reason. "How?" Matthew asked softly, sniffling.

"I do what I can in my classes. The teachers are really sweet and help out where they can. My dad makes fairly good money where he works, so were pretty good there," I replied. "He's had to give up so much for me because I can't see now. I know it's his fault, but I stop him from doing so much because of me." I think someone was going to say something, but my cell interrupted them. "Daddy's Hand's began playing out of my pocket. I fumbled with my pocket for a moment before Francis gently grabbed it for me. I noticed he didn't even try to grab me. I smiled gratefully as he handed it to me.

"Hello," I said softly.

"_! Where are you?" my dad asked worriedly. I sighed and smiled into the phone. I covered the speaker and asked softly.

"What time is it?" My father continued rambling on the other end of the line as Antonio replied.

"6:45, almost seven." I hadn't realized it had gotten so late.

"I'm with some friends, dad. I'll head home in just a minute, alright?" I told him, trying to sooth his frazzled nerves. He became so worried so easily now. "I'm sorry I hadn't realized it was so late." I heard my father sigh.

"It's alright hun. Just be careful on your way home," he told me.

"Yes sir, love you daddy," I said.

"Love you sweetheart," he replied and hung up. I followed suit and stuffed the phone back in my pocket. "Sorry boys but I gotta go." I told them with a smirk. They all groaned and whined in protest. I held up a hand grinning. "How about we all hang out again soon. Tomorrow maybe?" I suggested, gently pushing Francis out of the booth.

"Yes! Zat sounds awesome!" Gilbert said. I laughed as they all agreed. I reached for Francis' arm and he gently grabbed my wrist.

"Alright, tomorrow then. Bye guys!" I called, letting the Francis lead me out of the restaurant and back to his car.

Just a few translations here.

French: Ma chѐrie - my dear
Oui - Yes
De rien - It's nothing. (It's more casual than you're welcome and it's what the French normally use, I asked my mom)mademoiselle - Miss
Un moment - A moment
Bonjour - Hello
Au revoir - Good bye

Spanish: Señorita - Miss (usually a young, unmarried girl)