If anything could be said about Preben – it was that he was forever the optimist.
Always smiling – no matter what. It annoyed several people as much as it brought joy to others. His whole life he did his very best to make others smile.
He volunteered in care-homes, hospitals, soup kitchens or at local events.
It didn't matter what needed to be done; Preben would do it with a grin.
The bell over the door rang shrilly as he entered his favourite café and bakery. Waving to the blonde woman behind the till he grinned from ear to ear as he studied the various pastries behind the glass.
"See anything in particular you'd like today?" Margareet asked with a smile.
Preben pretended to be in deep thought before pointing excitedly to a small strawberry tart topped with white chocolate.
"That one!" he exclaimed, a certain childish glee in his vice as he bounced up and down on his feet.
Margareet chuckled as he carefully picked the tart out. "Always energetic," she commented with a smile "Don't ever change...we need someone like you around here."
Preben laughed heartily as he leant on the glass counter with a flirtatious grin
"All this vitality is good for a lot of things."
The blonde woman giggled and gave him a playful smack to the head. "Oh shush you. You know I'm taken."
"Worth a shot." the Dane replied with a smirk as he paid for his tart – the coffee he always got on the house anyway. Being a regular helped a lot.
Grabbing his drink and food he surveyed the small café. It was busier today than usual and all tables seemed fully occupied.
Or wait a minute. The Dane grinned as he spotted one free chair at a window table.
Manoeuvring his way across the crowded floor with some difficulty, he took one look at the occupant of the table.
A lone man; hair light blonde pulled back slightly with a small silver barrette; his face turned towards the street outside on the other side of the glass.
"S'cuse me. This seat taken?"
The blonde didn't reply, instead he continued to seemingly stare out the window at something Preben couldn't quite see, the man's eyes hidden by his hair and his hand.
With a shrug he decided no reply was as good as any, and he pulled up a seat.
The sound of the chair moving, a plate and cup being placed upon the table seemed to stir the blonde man's thought slightly. For a second Preben had thought the man might have been deaf.
"Sorry to frighten you buddy. No other seats left in here..."
The man made no comment to the Dane's light-hearted chat. Instead he kept this head turned away.
Preben decided to try again.
"Enjoying the scene?" he inquired with a grin.
"There's nothing to see..." came the sudden but cold reply.
Preben flinched a little – wow! This guy had a much deeper voice than he'd imagined!
"Nothing to see? Nah, that's not true! There's plenty of things to see. People, animals, cars! It's a perfect spot for people watching! Look closely enough and you can tell someone's life story by just one glan-" he stopped abruptly when he noticed his table-companion wasn't looking out the window any more.
Instead the stranger had his eyes fixed upon the Dane.
Preben couldn't stop staring.
The blonde's eyes were blue – but not like his own.
No. This man's eyes were dark blue - similar to the deep sea.
However, instead of glinting with life like so many other's eyes did – this man's eyes were dull and lifeless.
Ohfuck.
"Shit man...I didn't realise. I just thought...well you know. Um..fuck"
Preben slapped his own hand across his face and sighed. Well that was one terrible first impression.
"You're blind..." He commented finally.
The strangers frown didn't lighten the slightest.
"Well done detective. How well spotted of you." he sneered in return. Preben felt like hiding – not that it would be difficult. After all; the guy couldn't see anything.
Scratching his head in embarrassment he took a better look at the blonde opposite him. In hindsight there were clues to the man's disability.
A pair of sunglasses were folded and next to a half empty coffee cup – now cold – and the man's food had obviously been a little difficult to eat without a sight because there were crumbs everywhere.
"Right, bad start this. Let's start over. Hi there! The name's Preben." the Dane grinned as stuck his hand out, eagerly waiting for the other man to follow suit.
After several agonising minutes in silence with the blonde's dull blue eyes staring right through him; the blonde carefully lifted his own hand. He fumbled sightly in the air – trying to locate the Dane's hand.
Preben grasped it before the poor man could knock over his coffee in the process – he'd already angered this guy, no need to cause him embarrassment as well.
"Erik." the blonde uttered as they shook hands.
"Well Erik, nice to meet you! You've not been here in this town for long, have you?"
Erik shook his head as he relaxed his grip on the Dane's hand – fingers sliding across his palm a little more than normal.
"I thought so. I never forget a face you see."
he clasped his hand over his mouth as he realised he'd probably again insulted or angered the newcomer.
"Well that's nice..."
Shitshitshitshit. He needed a new topic of conversation.
"So, uh...where are you from?"
"Norway..." Erik replied nonchalantly.
"Ohhh, that's cool! I'm from Denmark. Happiest country on earth. What do you do then?" He inquired – dead set on finding out more about this odd man. Even if he needed to surgically extract any more information from his fellow Nordic.
"Job or hobby?"
"Both I guess..." Preben shrugged, before realising Erik couldn't see shrugs. This was a lot more difficult than he'd ever have imagined. Never in his life had he been more aware of how much non-verbal communication he really did.
A nod or a smile was useless in this situation. This guy required words.
Sadly, words weren't Preben's strongest point.
"I work as a teacher for other visually impaired people..."
"Wow. What do you teach?" Preben placed his elbows on the table and leant in closer, genuinely interested in this new man's stories.
"Languages and music."
"You mean you can play an instrument as well?" the Dane whistled a small tune in amazement. He'd never thought someone could do so much without their eyesight.
"I'm blind, not stupid." Erik replied with a frown.
"Sheesh, sorry." Preben sighed – this really wasn't going well. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I've never met anyone who's blind before..."
"I can tell." Erik cut in.
"-yeah, you 'see' right though me"
"That, was a terrible joke." but despite the dry remark, Preben noticed Erik's lips curl up into a very faint smile.
He laughed heartily before standing abrupt up from his seat.
"Come on, I'll show you around town!"
"You what? But.." Erik tried to protest, but the strong arm that wrapped around his own was impossible to get away from.
"Come on. You're new here, right? That means someone has to teach you about this place. And trust me; no one knows this place better than me!"
Preben hardly gave Erik time to grab his sunglasses or coat before he dragged the poor man out the door in a great hurry.
"Stop it." Erik hissed as he tried to twist his hand out of the Dane's grip.
"Come on! It will be fun!" Preben laughed happily.
A few steps further down the street a loud smack sounded. Preben yelped and let go of the Norwegian male instantly, rubbing the back of his head.
"Hey, what was that?"
He didn't have to wait for a reply, because the offending weapon was in Erik's hands.
A walking cane. A white, folding walking cane.
Erik must have managed to put it together one handedly as the Dane had dragged him along the street. Still rubbing his sore head, Preben glanced around. People were staring.
Shit.
He must have looked like such an ass-hole. Dragging a poor blind man around – the guy visibly struggling against him.
"Shit, dude. I'm so sorry..."
"Fuck off." Erik sneered, dull eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses – yet Preben could imagine the anger present in them none the less.
"I don't need your fucking sympathy, nor do I want your stupid help. Just leave me the fuck alone."
Preben flinched as Erik growled the words out.
"I was just trying to help." he tried a little more quietly than usual for the Dane. He didn't feel like getting into an argument with a blind man on the crowded streets.
"You're not helping the slightest." Erik hissed back before abruptly turning around, making his way back where they had come from the best he could.
Preben stood motionless in shook before he ran after Erik.
"Erik! Wait up!"
The man stopped and sighed. Obviously he wasn't getting rid of the Dane so quickly.
"Listen, please...I'm sorry. I really am."
Behind the dark glasses; Erik furrowed his eyebrows.
"Just shut up will you? You don't know anything and your assumptions are frankly out of place and horrendously insulting."
The Dane cringed.
"I just wanted to be your friend..." he weakly muttered.
"A friend? By dragging me around a town I hardly know? Do you know how fucking scary it is to not know your surroundings? The complete feeling of fear when you have no idea where you are or how to get home?" Erik fumed, his previously calm and cold voice was replaced for one of pure anger and hatred.
"I..." Preben shook his head. "No, I didn't think...but I still wanted to help." The blonde had looked a little lonely sitting there on his own. Then again, perhaps it was a little selfish to just assume the guy wanted his friendship.
Erik crossed his arms and frowned.
"Just take me back to the café."
"Of course."
They walked in silence. Erik holding the white stick in front of him, gently tapping and moving it back and forth over the asphalt as he made his way down the street. The first thing Preben noticed was how he held the white cane, it seemed a little awkward to his eyes, but as they continued to walk he quickly figured that was obviously the best way to fully utilise the cane's potential.
The second thing he noticed was how quickly people jumped out of the man's way – and how so many people gave him looks of pity – a few snickered, laughed and pointed. And even on their short walk back; Preben noted at least five teens making fun of the Norwegian male.
It made him angry.
Was Erik aware of people giving him such looks? Probably not.
"So, heh..here we are." Preben announced as they stood in front of the café.
"Thanks." Erik uttered, a hint of bitterness still present in his voice.
"So, you'll find your way back home from here, right?"
"Yes."
"How?" Preben shifted his weight back and forward from left leg to right, nervous energy building up as he tried to stall Erik for a little while longer.
"I count steps..."
"Seriously? Wow...that's impressive." he admitted in amazement. "Does that mean you know how many steps there are to your home?"
"Thirty down this way" Erik said pointing to his left. "Then it's forty five steps to the left, a cross-walk and then seventy nine more steps further down the street. Turn right and walk fifty steps..."
"You...you have it all perfectly memorized? That is just..wow."
"You rely on your eyes, I rely on my ears and feeling. Counting is an easy way to remember directions."
"I've never thought about it before to be honest."
"You never know what you have till you loose it. Good bye."
Preben waved before face-palming.
"Bye!" he called after Erik, mentally berating himself for forgetting once again that the blonde couldn't see his actions.
With a sigh and heavy thoughts he headed back to his own apartment. Perhaps Erik would be back to the same café tomorrow?
Preben sure hoped so. And even if he wasn't – the city wasn't that big. Finding one grumpy, blind Norwegian wasn't going to be that difficult.
A.N:
Over used idea is cliché and over used, but I just really wanted to try and write Norway as blind. (*shakes fist at plot bunnies*)
Not sure I got it down quite right, but I hope it still is ok.
More chapters to follow eventually I guess. I actually have no idea where to go with this (part from one or two fluff scenes I badly want to write but not sure how to do it yet...)
oh well. Stay tuned...