Phil's POV

I woke up again cuddled closely to Dan. I rubbed my face awake and placed my hands on Dan's chest.

"Good morning," he said.

"I didn't know you were awake."

He kissed my forehead. We got up and went about a normal day, (though nothing seemed normal to me anymore). Dan helped me dress and then sat by me.

"Phil," he said blankly. I could tell he wasn't looking in my direction by the sound of his voice. I didn't like it. I put a hand down on his leg and offered my hand, which he took and held tightly. He inhaled. "I was texting PJ last night and he sent me this thing...."

"Yeah?"

"It's about this doctor," he explained. "She wants to try some new surgery for someone with optic nerve damage. She thinks he can help someone see again."

My eyebrows furrowed. I wasn't wearing the glasses, so I knew Dan could see my confusion. "Not seriously?"

"Yes seriously. And she's looking for someone while in London. Her contact info was at the bottom of the article."

I didn't know what I could possibly say. He couldn't mean it. I didn't believe it. It wasn't real.

"I didn't know if you were interested," he said, again facing away.

"So if I do this," I said, very slowly, "I could see again?"

"Maybe. It's never been done before."

What do I say? Should I jump on it? Should I avoid the risk? What even was the risk? Everything became frightening all at once. I covered my face and cried quietly, not sure if I was terrified or relieved. I just didn't know what else to be doing.

"We could ask them if you qualify or something if you want," Dan said, hugging me. "You don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

I did. Oh, how I did. I wanted to see anything. I wanted to look in a mirror again. I wanted to see colour. I wanted to see Dan's face. I wanted everything.

"Do you want to think about it?" Dan offered.

I nodded, and he kissed my cheek.

I would think about it.

Dan's POV

I wasn't sure if Phil was happy or freaked out by the news. I would probably be overwhelmed in his position.

When I got a moment alone, I began to research the doctor and procedure. It all seemed safe and it claimed that the only risk was that the operation would fail and he still couldn't see. I was willing to give Phil anything. If I could cut my own eyes out to give to him to get his sight back, I would.

I loved him so much. I couldn't explain it. Days and days passed from the first time we kissed. It must have been weeks by now. It was difficult to keep track. I didn't care. Every day with him has been perfect.

That night, I stayed up again while Phil slept. I found the eye doctor's email address on my laptop and decided to send her a message:

"Hello. I saw you were looking for someone who has suffered optic nerve damage to attempt a new surgery? I know someone very important to me who has, and I was wondering if you could help him. He's fully blind and I just wish I could do something for him. Maybe you could check if he is eligible for your surgery. It would mean a lot to me and him. Thank you so much."

I included my name and number and told her she could contact me if possible. I closed my laptop and set it away to be able to cuddle with Phil.

As I leaned close to him, he began to wake up.

"Dan?" he lazily groaned.

"It's still late at night," I whispered. "You can go back to sleep."

Instead he pressed lips to mine and began to kiss. His curious hands began to explore my chest beneath my night shirt, then wrapped around my body. One of his hands traced up my neck and into my hair as his lips mixed with mine. He touched my chin. He wanted to touch my face, I could tell.

"Could I..." he asked shyly. "Please?"

"Yes."

It felt different than the other time he did. He wasn't touching with wonder or shock like before. Now, it was pure lust. He desperately was trying to create a picture in his mind. He kissed my nose as he touched it.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.

"I wish you could see how perfect you are."

We were facing each other, our foreheads barely touching. "I love you."

"I love you too." I roughly kissed his forehead. He began to drift off again, his arm draped over my waist.