He can't see the world, but god can he feel it. He can feel every breath she takes, feel her gasp when he kisses her neck.
He can't see the world, but god can he hear it. He can hear every sharp intake of breath she takes as he lowers his head to hers, hears her heartbeat when he lays his head on her chest.
He can't see the world, but god can he taste it. He can taste every movement if her tongue as it slides against his, taste the strawberry lipgloss she wears.
He can't see the world, but god can he smell it. He can smell every spray of perfume she's put on, smell the vanilla shampoo she uses.
His hands trace the pattern of her lips, slide across the perfection that is her face. He'll never get to see it with his own eyes, but he knows it like he knows his own reflection. He knows every curve of her face, knows every curve of her.
She knows he can't see the world how she does, so she tells him the color of her eyes, tells him about her birthmark, tells him that she doesn't find herself pretty.
He banishes the thoughts with a kiss. She is beautiful, the most beautiful thing to ever come into his world.
He doesn't need to see to know that.
He knows that if he could see, she would be stunning even without makeup that other girls cake on their faces, knows that she would be gorgeous in sweatpants, her hair in a messy bun.
Oh, they say he can't see the world, but he thinks they're the ones really lacking.
Kaitlyn is his world. He doesn't need to see her.
He already knows how breathtaking she is.