blind - owen teague | ✔️

17. Crimson And Clover

Have you ever felt a wave of pulsing jealousy run through you? Not quite betrayal, not quite envy, not quite hurt, but pure, in the most pristine form, jealousy?

The way she spoke, was as if she was happy. The way she articulated her words was perfect. She was slightly shy, slightly different, but everything screamed she was nice.

"I'm [F/n]... It's nice to meet you too." I told the voice and I heard her sit down in Owen's seat. She was staying for a minute.

"Owen tells me you're blind for now?" What, you couldn't tell from the bandages? [F/n], quit it.

"Yeah, it's temporary. I should get my sight back sometime soon." I replied as my hands slid under the blanket across my lap nervously.

"I'm gonna go talk to my mom for a bit. You two girls get to know one another." At Owen's voice, I felt relief and anxiety hit at once in a huge tidal wave. Don't leave us alone.

I heard the door open and shut before I could stop it and murky sadness leaked around my heart, along with anxiety. I hated being alone with people I didn't know. It was so awkward.

"How long have you and Owen known one another?" I found myself asking as I gently gripped the blanket in my fingers. Just breathe.

"Almost two years. We're working on a movie together." The murky feelings just got darker from her reply. They were probably so close and I wasn't nearly as close to him as she was. Two years worth of talking, of being together and she even got to see him. "How about you?"

"Just a few weeks." My reply was weak. I thought I knew Owen, and I thought he knew me. There was so much doubt in me, my insecurities eating at my heart and my skin.

"I bet it sucks that you can't see him. Does that scare you? The possibility that he could hurt you?" She asked.

He's already hurt me, not in the way you're thinking. "Not really. I feel like if he wanted to hurt me, he would have by now." I bit the inside of my cheek. He could still be using me. For what? What would he gain? Your time. My mind was arguing.

"That's probably true, and I don't see him hurting anyone." She sounded wistful when she said it, and I knew then she knew him well. My heart constricted.

This is what it felt to feel completely second best, before someone else. She was probably someone he was really close to, laughed with, and me? I was his mom's patient.

The more we talked, the more I felt pricked. This pricked like thorn. We were close, but I felt miles apart from Owen the more I spoke to Sophia.

I could still hear his favorite music playing in my head and the fabric of his shirt on me and the warmth of his blanket on my lap. Everything hurt. It all hurt. I didn't want to let myself get any closer to Owen if I couldn't have the security of knowing he felt everything I did.

"- and there's this other guy, he's Australian, his name is Nikki. Well, I call him Nikki, but his name is Nicholas, and he wears a mullet -" I hadn't paid attention to most of this conversation. I only replied when asked a direct question, and my head was foggy. I felt empty.

She was cut off when the door clicked open. I don't know how long it had been, but I heard Owen's voice and it was tender as he spoke to her. "Your ride's out front." He told her and I heard her get up from the recliner.

"Oh! Maybe I'll come by and tell you more soon. It was nice to meet you, again." She walked off and I heard her and Owen say their goodbyes, the door shutting with a click.

Then, something in the air changed as he walked toward the recliner. Anger? Upset? Tired? It made me hold my breath. He was too quiet.

I heard him lower himself down into the recliner and I tilted my head down to wait for him to say something. Was he glaring at me? Staring?

I counted the seconds until he talked. Patiently, I waited until, a solid 19 seconds later, he moved the papers I forgot were by my hip.

"I know what you're thinking." He finally broke the silence. What was that supposed to mean? Did he?

"Oh, do you? Mind reader?" My sarcastic reply was quick, and even I was shocked at myself. Where the hell did that come from?

"Don't use that sarcasm on me. We're co-workers, friends, nothing more. Don't start thinking anything else." He began to write on the papers. For some reason, his words were somewhat colder than usual.

I reached out and touched his arm; when my fingertips connected with his skin, he was tense. I began to rub soothing little lines up and down, and I soon felt his body shudder as he relaxed.

"Calm down." I managed back in a quiet tone. Calm, I reminded myself. My voice dropped to a whisper. "How did you know that?" I asked softly.

He stopped writing. "I just knew. You're sitting here without sight and a girl I know comes in, like before, you started to get quiet because your mind was over working to find out more about her. I can assure you, we're just friends. We don't live nearby. She's in town on final shoots for the movie, promotion pictures." He sighed. "You're an insecure girl. I knew you'd get worked up. Plus, she's really young. It'd be illegal for us." He laughed a little.

He was right. At the slightest sign, my mind did overthink. It did it way too often and I got trapped in it. I fell victim to my own mind's thoughts and it led to me being destroyed.

"You're catching on quick." I whispered and I heard the smile in his tone when he replied.

"I guess I am. It's from sitting here, waiting for you to wake up. I think a lot about you, and I'm more observant than vocal. This is the most I talk." He laughed a little. "I sorta wish your sight was back so I didn't have to so much."

I huffed in reply and if he could have seen my eyes, I would have rolled them. "Isn't that nice to hear?" I asked in a playful tone.

"I'm kidding." He said and I felt the atmosphere had lifted back as he began to work on his homework again. I turned on my side and yawned quietly as I felt his hand on my calf, rubbing it through the blanket. He was too relaxing at times.

Like that, all my worries diminished as if his touch had burned them away. Everything was so complicated and scary, and I just wanted more. We both wanted more, but there were only so many things you can do in a hospital and only so many things you can do blind.