So, the newest instalment, and I'll probably actually post another one later on. I'm feeling creative tonight :)

Have fun! Please review!

Bemoan, v
- To express sorrow or dissatisfaction with something

His mom had picked his glasses out for him again, and as he sat quietly in his room, he glared at them, hating them silently.

It was bad enough that he had to wear glasses, people at school calling him 'four-eyes' and 'blind' and whatever else they could think of. But glasses with thick red rims, big square frames, something his grandmother would pick out for herself in the sixties! Even she wouldn't wear something this tacky now, it was twenty thirteen for heavens' sake!

Sighing, Monty put them on and looked in the mirror that was hung on the wall. They looked like something from history, and he half believed if he went to the museum with them they'd be taken as an archaeological artefact.

He could hope so anyway...

But of course, he couldn't take them off, because then he couldn't see. As if to challenge himself, he slipped the specs off and squinted at the blurry, distorted reflection in the mirror. He couldn't walk around without the glasses, he'd end up breaking his neck.

Groaning he put them back on and threw himself backwards on his bed, smacking his head on the wooden headboard and crying out in pain as he eventually hit the pillows.

"Are you okay?" came a concerned, feminine voice, and he opened his eyes to see Tooth hovering over him, her hand reaching out to pull him upright into a sitting position again and she sat beside him. "Here, let me look."

He tilted his head forward and she brushed her fingers over the growing bump on his head.

"Aw, it doesn't look too bad," she said soothingly, sitting back and smiling at the twelve year old. "So what made you throw yourself at a solid object?"

Monty chuckled slightly in spite of himself, shaking his head slightly.

"I hate my glasses," he explained, gesturing to the monstrous square things covering half of his face. "I just... guess I got frustrated."

"Why, I think they're lovely," Tooth said gently, tapping her finger atop the rims.

"You're just saying that," the blond boy scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Cos you have to, cos you're the Tooth Fairy and you're meant to make me happy."

"I am not just saying that Montgomery," she said sharply, and Monty felt himself flush red as she used his full name. "I think they are lovely."

"Why?" he asked, looking at her skeptically.

"Because, they make your blue eyes look brighter," she said happily, and he stared into her mauve eyes and felt his cheeks burn slightly. "You look more intelligent, you look friendlier... and let's face is Monty," she said quietly, leaning in towards him.

"What?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"It shouldn't matter what you look like, it doesn't change who you are. When I was your age I suddenly sprouted feathers, and I've never regretted it. You are an intelligent, kind boy with or without them, but they help you see better, and that's important."

"You... you really think that?" he asked, biting his lip.

"I really do, and I'd bet my left wing anyone with half a brain can see that too," she giggled, planting a soft kiss on his head, and he closed his eyes, feeling shocked. When he opened his eyes, she was gone, and he was left feeling relieved, happy, and his stomach was fluttering.

It was safe to say Monty had a bit of a crush on Tooth.