Wilona's P.O.V
I could always cook first and then ask after but what if he ate in that time. I couldn't have him wait in my apartment while I cooked, hed see and I couldn't have him wait in his own, that'd be weird.
It was just hanging out. It seemed so simple yet it wasn't.
All the trouble would go away if I just told him about my eye problems. I just had to tell him I couldn't see well and all these problems would fade away.
But I knew from experience they'd only produce more.
First, the pity would tumble out, presented by silence as they took it all in and stamped me as disabled. Next would be the questions, the worse of them all being the first; What happened?
The single question over the last seven months had quickly become the two words I hated more than anything else in this world. Two words that had the ability to relaunch me into a dark abyss of my greatest failures, two words that stung almost as much as the famous 'are you okay?'.
