This is my first fanfic entry so I'm keeping it short for now. I don't really write, but I felt the urge to write this for some reason. Finals week giving me weird urges…Hope you guys enjoy! :')

The moment was forever etched in his memory.

They were alone and she was looking up at him through her thick fringe of blue lashes. He had been told that it was a very gentle shade of blue. Like the morning fog.

She was lucky to have him, they said. They fit together, since they both lacked something. For him, it was sight. For her, it was a voice.

What the others didn't understand, and what they did was that they fit together because they both felt far more than someone with all the senses could feel. She spoke to him in his mind often, describing the melodies only she could hear all around her before playing them on her etwahl. They were always fleeting strings of notes that she said she needed to flesh out later. To him, each melody was a kind of unique, ethereal perfection like her existence.

He told her about all the things he could perceive around him. He liked to count her heartbeats and listen for her fingers fluttering over the strings of her instrument. The whisper in fabric when she shifted her voluminous skirts, the sound of the wind blowing over her hair- he was attuned to it all. The vibrations in the air around her told him everything he need to know.

That's why he knew she was looking up at him at the time. He reached down to cup her face, but she met his hand with her own and intertwined her fingers with his. Her hand was small, yet calloused from years of consistent practice. He leaned down to brush her lips, he was so attuned to her-

BOOM

She wrenched her hand away, it desperately scrabbled at his chest. Raspy breaths, wetness, tears. He tried so hard to stop the wetness from spreading on her side, but it wasn't enough because he felt her slip away so quickly. It was a physical impact to his own heart. Her hand went limp, her lashes fluttered shut. He grabbed for her instrument and roughly thrust it under her hands. There was no response. He knocked the instrument to the ground furiously and cupped her face where he felt her last tear tracks. All he could do was hold her close and make ugly sounds of grief.

He was so attuned to her. But in the end, it killed her. And without her, he could not see.