→awaken a.c

→two

Three weeks, it's been three weeks since Ivan had the little flicker of light after a year of darkness. He never stopped thinking about it, the possibility of having his sight back for one second till it was ripped away again.

Ivan sighed and waited, slapping his arm round on the bed side table and finally found the alarm clock. A loud smash followed the alarm clock after Ivan lobbed it at the wall since couldn't find to shut it the fuck up. He needed a new one anyway, who gives a blind kid an alarm clock with a minuscule off button? It's like demanding a kid with a lisp to say antidistablishmantarialism.

Ivan heard Charlie's bulky footsteps quickly flood into the room, he must have ran upstairs after hearing the noise. He heard Charlie sigh; that caused Ivan to crack a grin.

"Again?" Charlie whines, "That's the fourth one in a year." Charlie's footsteps curved around Ivan's bed as Ivan guessed Charlie had knelt down to check the damage he'd made. "Unsalvageable." He announced like a coroner.

Ivan sat up and dangled his legs off of the side of his bed. "The button was too small."

"If you weren't blind I'd smack you so hard, Ivan." Charlie mutters, "The button is huge."

"Well I couldn't feel it." Ivan defends himself, frowning. "Are you going to blame the blind kid?"

Ivan winced at the sudden flick on the back of his neck, he then scowled whilst Charlie chuckled. "Tough luck. I'll be your alarm clock from now on. What kind of day is it then, kiddo?"

Ivan stood up from his bed whilst grasping the bed side table in order for him to stand himself up right. There was a slight chill to his room and he could only think that outside was an amplified version of that. "Jumper kind of day."

Ivan heard Charlie swipe the curtains away and hum in approval. Ivan listened to Charlie get his clothes together and rattle around in his sock drawer - Ivan didn't let him go near his underwear drawer, Ivan declared that it would be a breach of the uncle and nephew contract that establishes: mans underwear is his own, do not touch.

"There ya go." Charlie says whilst patting his bed, alerting Ivan where his clothes were currently folded. "Four steps to your left, yep, one, two, three, four, got it. That's your underwear draw, four steps backwards and don't turn and there's your clothes. Shout me when you're done."

Ivan saluted him without turning to his words, Ivan struggled through it all, and almost tripped which nearly through him off of his calculated route, but he'd managed to dress himself and slip his shoes on (they were always kept at the foot of his bed). Ivan shouted Charlie for him to come out of his room, help him downstairs and call Anthony to pick him up.

The drive to school, mundane as always, was filled with the dreary voice of Morrissey singing how soon is now? Anthony's favourite that was too overplayed - that and Renee loved charmed and always used to drag Ivan to watch it when he visited. He didn't mind all that much, Piper was sweet.

Anthony didn't talk much despite knowing him for a couple years. Anthony was a year younger than him since Ivan was held back due to his accident and readjustments of losing his sight. Despite that, Anthony seemed more grown up than majority of the seniors in his old classes. Ivan decided that's probably what drew him towards Anthony - that and he didn't treat Ivan any differently.

He would have graduated last year.

Ivan pinched the skin between his thumb and pointer finger, he hated thinking about would haves and what ifs. It happened, that's it, there's nothing he can do about it. Put up and shut up. That's what Charlie would do. And that's what he'll do.