After his blindness, Jiaoqui had difficulty adapting to his life.

Using taste, touch, scent, hearing.. they helped, yes, but it felt incomplete. He missed the sunsets, the oceans, the skies and birds and clouds and everything.

Especially you.

Your kind eyes, your warm smile, the gentle slope of your nose and your enticing cupid's bow.. waking up next to you and going to sleep beside you, eating meals with you and simply existing with you. He missed it, more than anything. He'd do anything to get his sight back, just so see you once again.

One morning, Jiaoqui woke up earlier than usual. He felt around beside him, gingerly patting your shoulders and sighing to himself.

You were here. Asleep, he assumed.

Jiaoqui tentatively guided himself to the kitchen, hand against the wall. He felt around for the knives (carefully) and veggies, mentally memorizing the recipe of a breakfast you like.

chives.. pork.. rice.. udon noodles.. matsutake..

Jiaoqui jolted when he felt a hand on his shoulder, but relaxed when your scent wafted over him, your nose burying into his nape. You kissed his shoulder and he couldn't help but smile.

"Jiaoqui, you should've woken me up if you're hungry."

"I'm fine, dear," he parroted, as he did every day, "I wanted to do something nice for you. You always take such good care of me, my burdened self, it means so much to me."