A/N: I enjoyed writing Sounds Like Textures. It was a great bit of practice - writing something from the perspective of a blind character - and I wanted to experiment more with this AU. So I'm probably going to be turning this into a oneshot series. I have a lot of ideas for it, and might even consider taking prompts if anyone has an idea they'd like to see someday.

For those who haven't read Sounds Like Textures, this story is part of an AU series in which Luigi is blind. You don't need to read the other story to understand this one, though.

Enjoy!

Cheers erupted and music pounded. The room was full to breaking point with people; multitudes of bodies spinning, twirling, hands gripping waists or shoulders, laughter ringing out too loudly, the occasional stumble, and a burst of applause when one couple executed a particularly tricky set of moves.

This latest party at Princess Peach's castle had attracted guests from the four corners of the Mushroom Kingdom, and even a few from beyond. Luigi sat in one corner near the refreshments table, feeling more than a little overwhelmed - and that was probably why he was over here by himself instead of mingling with the crowd on the dance floor. That, and the fact that he'd just get in everyone's way. He didn't dance, after all.

Still, that didn't mean that he was COMPLETELY deprived of the chance to enjoy the party. A tall glance of orange juice stood beside his right hand, while his left hung casually over the back of his chair, every so often brushing the handle of the cane that nowadays was rarely seen apart from him. The touch of the smooth, curving wood gave him a measure of solace, like hearing the familiar voice of a trusted friend.

He couldn't see the dancers, of course, but by listening closely to the rhythmic thump of their footsteps, and feeling the way the air shifted around him as they passed like the eddying currents of a river, he was able to paint what he hoped was an accurate picture of the scene on the backs of his eyelids. It really was fascinating - it was a side of Peach's parties that he had never experienced before. Who knew that simple sounds could tell him so much, while still leaving equal parts to the imagination?

Tilting his head to better analyse the dance, he sensed one person detach themselves from the crowd and make their way over, with quick, light footsteps that seemed familiar.

'Hey, Luigi!'

It was Daisy's voice. Unbidden, he felt a sad smile curve across his face.

There were very few things that he was bitter about nowadays; he had lived without sight for three years and the absence of lights, colours and shapes no longer bothered him - in fact, it seemed almost laughable that he'd once considered those things so important.

But if there was one thing about his blindness that made him bitter, it was Daisy. They'd been an unofficial couple for six months, and sometimes, being unable to see those kind yet mischievous eyes or that wave of auburn hair or that enthusiastic grin that he loved so much was like a physical pain. It made him want to claw out his useless eyes and scream at the world for taking this from him.

'Hey, Daisy,' he said quietly, holding out a hand and feeling her warm, slender fingers enfolding it. Her grip was firm, and before he could ask what was going on she had pulled him up out of his chair and was leading him off somewhere. He knew by the increased noise levels and the vibrations running through the floor that she was taking him in the direction of the dance floor, and he made a small, confused noise in his throat.

'I always wanted to dance with you,' she said by way of explanation. 'And it's not too late to try now!'

The eager tone of her voice made his smile turn genuine. 'I-I don't really dance...' he began, and her fingers tightened against his. Familiar and comforting. And he knew that she understood.

'I'm not much good, either,' she said, lightly.

By then, they were right in the midst of the crowd of dancers, the thumping music and pounding feet driving an onslaught against Luigi's ears that was almost painful, but before he could do more than flinch, Daisy had set her warm hand on his shoulder and guided his to the side of her waist, and they were spinning in slow circles together, always touching.

He could smell her too, that bright scent of the citrus shampoo that she always used, and it felt like a cloud enveloping the two of them, protecting them, setting them apart from the chaos all around. The noise of the party was almost forgotten, replaced instead by the simple familiarity of her touch.

'I love you,' she whispered, and he heard it as though it were the only sound in the room.

'L-love you too.' And nothing else really mattered.