Prompt: Poser

Notes: Thank for the reviews and stuff guys! I don't know what I was thinking, but I have more shit to do than I thought...so I'm very grateful for you support, but extra attention on reviews...not happening rn. Anyway. Have this because I'll be gone for a long while. I don't know what it is, I made it up in a day and it drained me so it can just stay as it is. Ya'll are really great. I love positive feedback.

Memories were not anything but dreams of the past. They were not there, unsolid, translucent…lonely.

Water was on his lips, surprisingly, he didn't miss. The moist sensation on his mouth would dry, and feeling, that leftover wetness that had sooner chapped his lips than stayed, and in turn become a memory. Paler, more docile, barely an inkling to the present. There was no comparison between what had been felt and what is felt. Now is what matters. Afterwards is void.

The bottle made an irritating suction beneath his wrought hold.

He could only make these assumptions because he felt more. He relied on touching more than any preconceived notion of what was actually there. He couldn't just know from a glance around the room that the water bottle was right next, and without another glance, swipe it from the table and bring it to his lips.

He couldn't do that, because he was freshly, outrageously, fucking blind. He wanted to spit the water out onto whoever put the bottle next to him, so that maybe they would grasp at the hint that it was retarded to put the bottle of water he'd requested next to him instead of, possibly, putting it. In. His. Hand.

The idiot nurse had probably presumed he was asleep. He heard her scurry away after she'd set it down. She didn't even bother to check if he was awake. She just assumed that the bandage around his face meant Do Not Disturb. In all fairness, Itachi was the one he'd asked for water, and he said he'd send a nurse because he had to go. He probably asked the nurse to be aware of his 'condition' and not to disturb him. Well. Fuck her. Or him. Whichever.

He hadn't slept in a long while, he couldn't. He couldn't do anything. Real life felt like a dream and actual dreams made him see again, which was painful, so he preferred the dream-like state of mind of his conscious mind to sleeping. The hospital, from what he'd noticed in the past week, was quiet.

His parents still hadn't tried for visitation. Being disowned he never thought he'd see them again. Maybe he was right, no matter the circumstance. He didn't let the disappointment seep in too deep. Nobody would want the disapproving scowl of Fugaku rain on them, and even if he couldn't see it he just understood it was there. He appreciated his father's domineering presence for it was—overwhelmingly annoying. His mother on the other hand…didn't matter if she'd chosen sides. There were very little people in his life who were allowed to matter in any case. The fewer, the better, was his motto. No one except Itachi was trustworthy, and he had become CEO for the company, and couldn't come every day. Sasuke supposed he should be grateful that he was still on his brother's medical aid, because he couldn't afford surgery. He couldn't afford much but his happiness these days.

There was a click of the door, feminine footsteps. These were paced, natural. No hurry. He already knew who it was, before her soft, bell voice bounded off the walls.

"Good evening Sasuke-san," She said, a smile in her warm sticky-sweet voice that he could taste. He didn't like sweet tastes usually, but he swallowed this one gratefully.

"Hyuuga-sensei." He greeted back coolly. His mood, though recovered, was still strained.

"How do you feel today? No migraines?" She asked naturally. He could hear papers. She wasn't his doctor, she was his doctor's intern. But he regarded as seriously as she regarded him. He wondered how she looked, in his spare time, all day.

"I'm just tired."

He could hear her getting closer, and a familiar self-consciousness rose up. He didn't know how he looked anymore, but it was bad. Motorcycle accidents weren't ever anything less than bad. He didn't remember the night or the pain, and he was glad for it, because glass had shattered in his eyes.

"Morphine can make you tired. We didn't give you a strong dosage. Have you been sleeping?" She began to undo the bandage. The first time, he had a shimmer of hope that he would see with it gone. The feeling had dissipated.

"No."

"Why not?"

He wasn't very fazed by the inquiry. She was probably asking his opinion of the matter. Her hands were warm. "Because I don't want to miss my favourite show." Although hospital TV was nothing to look forward to. She laughed, and he honestly believed her laugh. It wasn't just polite or rehearsed.

"Well, I might up your dosage." He felt a hint of a smile when she said that.

Hyuuga-sensei peeled the bandage back, the residue of ointment clung coldly to his face. He felt like her hair was short, a bob maybe. Her eyes were probably the lightest shade of brown—damn near amber. Warm and honey-soaked, like her voice. She wasn't much older than him. Just two years. But he was blind, and probably less handsome. He remembers his cheek stinging, but he sustained quite a few head injuries.

With a fresh bandage on, he took the opportunity to take her hand while he could still feel it.

"Wait—Uchiha-san, I don't know if the bandage is tight enough," She only attempted to pull away once before he squeezed her, and she stilled. He wondered if she looked stunned.

"It's fine. Was there someone else that came here with me?" Sasuke asked this hurriedly, a question that had been on his mind a lot recently. His brother pleaded ignorance, but Sasuke didn't buy it.

Hyuuga paused for the faintest of moments, "Someone else?"

"Yes, in the accident. Was there someone else?"

This time it seemed as if she were mulling the question around in her head. Then in an unnerved tone, she said: "Uchiha-san, there was no one else."

"What?" He was fairly confident in his skills with a bike, so he refused to believe he was at fault, but for the love of fuck, he couldn't remember. He didn't recall anything. He didn't even remember getting onto his bike, and he can't think of a reason. Sasuke's confusion must've been palpable, because Hyuuga read it loud and clear.

"You were transferred to this hospital, Uchiha-san." Yes he knew that. She gently placed her other hand on his fingers, as if wrapping Sasuke's hand in comfort. "I don't know anything about before you got here." She gave his fist a gentle squeeze. "Why don't you just focus on your recovery?" Her voice had gotten a tad bit lower, sending a chill down his spine, because for the first time, Hyuuga-sensei didn't sound sweet, or genuine. She wasn't telling him she lacked knowledge, she was nudging him to stop asking questions.

"Sasuke. Call me Sasuke. I'm not an Uchiha anymore."

Letting go, Hyuuga-sensei walked away from him. Again syrupy-sweet, but this time sickeningly so: "Okay, good-evening, Sasuke."

He wanted her to tell him her first name as well. He wanted to know if she had as beautiful a smile as he's imagined. But he didn't, he couldn't, sadly. Because Hyuuga-sensei was liar.