I squinted at the blurry text on my phone screen, frustration building in my chest. I’d been noticing my vision getting worse for a while, but today it felt different. The letters weren’t just fuzzy; they were completely unreadable. I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus, but it was no use. I felt a pang of panic in my stomach.

Before I could even process it, Pippin was next to me, his hand gently resting on my shoulder. "Hey, you okay?" His voice was steady, but I could hear the concern there, even if he tried to hide it.

"I can’t see," I muttered, trying to keep my voice even. "Everything’s... blurry. It’s getting worse."

He didn’t say anything at first, just took my phone from my hand and inspected the screen. His eyes flicked back to me, his brow furrowed. "We’re getting you to an eye doctor. Now."

I opened my mouth to argue, but Pippin wasn’t having it. He was already pulling on his jacket and grabbing my keys. "You’re not doing this alone," he said firmly. "Trust me. Glasses are nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus, you’re gonna look cute in them."

I felt the warm rush of affection toward him. Pippin had always been there, steady, supportive, always looking out for me. Even now, with everything feeling out of control, I felt safe with him.

At the eye doctor’s office, Pippin kept making jokes to try and lighten the mood, but I was too preoccupied with the tests. When the doctor came in with the results, he confirmed my fears: my vision had deteriorated, and I’d need glasses. I swallowed hard, feeling a lump in my throat.

Pippin was already standing next to me, his hand on my back in silent support. He met my gaze and offered a soft smile. "See? No big deal."

I shook my head, fighting the self-consciousness creeping up on me. "I look ridiculous."

"You look like you’re about to conquer the world," he said, his voice so full of warmth and belief in me that I almost felt like I could. "You’re gonna rock these glasses, I promise."