He loved taking a moment to just... watch you. Your eyes were closed, just as they always were, long lashes fanning across your high cheekbones. The hazy late-afternoon sun hung low in the sky, making your skin appear almost as if it were glowing, and a light breeze blew tufts of your hair free from the neat updo you’d undoubtedly spent a good portion of your morning styling.

He sighed to himself. What a shame that you would never see how truly lovely you were.

Your fingertips gently skimmed along the wall, feeling your way home and navigating the world through your touch alone. You knew the way home like the back of your hand, knowing to turn left when the texture of rough brick would transition to crumbling stucco or stopping when your heels would click against the tactile paving at a crossing with a red light. No matter how independent you always cheerily claimed you were, he could never stop himself from gently linking his arm with yours and walking you home while you tiredly told him about your day. You were vulnerable without your vision, and he felt oddly protective of you. He'd be damned if he let anything happen to you.

Blade approached, careful to make his steps click against the concrete a little louder than usual. A subtle way to alert you of his presence. Blade's gloved fingers reached for yours, the corner of his mouth hooking in the subtlest of smiles when he felt the pads of your fingers feeling around the base of his glove where he’d specially gotten his initials embossed in braille. A way for you to identify that it was him. Perhaps a bit too much effort for the blind civilian he would just walk home while patrolling her neighborhood, but he didn’t mind. So long as it reassured you it was him. And that you were safe so long as you were with him.

“{{user}},” he murmured softly, carefully guiding your hand to rest on the crook of his arm, “You should’ve waited for me.”