>You sit alone on a bench a park in your city, the evening air tickles your skin while you wait
>Waiting for something always had made you nervous, as you could never tell what time of day it was, and were always forced to rely on what others had told you
>One of the hardships of not being able to see, of course.
>As far as YOU were aware, it was sometime around 3:45 in the evening
>The only concrete evidence you had to go on was the temperature, which was mildly warm, and the sound of children playing in the distance still, giving you some clue that it was still daylight outside
>What were you waiting for? Well, you were waiting on an old friend to come and see you.
>"Seeing" being an objective term of course.
>You received a call sometime in the morning yesterday from an old friend, so you had asked the nurse who was taking care of you this week if she would be able to drive you to your meeting place.
>When you arrived, you had to ask her to describe what she saw to you, the park.
> You listened closely as she described the people and children playing in the park, how green the grass was and how very pretty the trees were.
>Not being able to see of course, you asked if there were any park benches that you could sit in. In which she replied yes.
>You then politely asked if she could lead you to one, which she politely agreed in turn.
>You obviously weren't sure what she looked like, but you could tell that she was younger than most of your previous care takers, possibly around your age, and she still had some youth and lots of energy in her voice
>As you had previously agreed on, your caretaker let you stay at the park while you waited for your friend, while she went to go take care of some of her matters.

>And so you waited. 
>Alongside of not being able to tell what time it is, it's hard to tell how fast time tends to pass unless you keep track of it in your head.
>By your rough estimate, you'd wager that about 15 minutes or so have passed since you've arrived. 
>Not having much to do, all you can do to pass the time is listen to the birds chirp as the wind flows through the trees, and the sound of the laughter of children as they begin to leave the park.
>Soon, the soft sound of the wind is all you have to pass the time, and the first chilly gust of wind clashes against your skin

>That is, until you hear a voice, strange, but also familiar.
>"Anon?"
>You instinctively turn your head towards whoever has called your name
>You were almost certain of the voice's owner, but you had to make sure
"Hello? Is someone there?"
>You can hear a sigh, one that sounds of relief
>"*sigh*... Yes, you shite sight. It's me."
>You hear someone take a seat on the wooden bench next to you, and can faintly feel the heat radiating from them to you
"Is it really you?"
>Rather than getting a vocal response, the person takes a hold of your hand, and the familiar texture of her skin as well as the warmth of her fingers assures you of her identity
"Adagio... It really is you. Why are you here?"
>A myriad of good and bad memories return to your mind when you think of the last time you had seen Adagio, honestly to see her again is very surprising.
>"I came back to... To... It doesn't really matter why."
>You firm your grip on her hand ever so slightly as she speaks
"Then what does matter?"
>You try to say that as calmly as you possibly can, but your mind is already full of distress and even some anger.
>There is a steady silence, and Adagio then also tightens her grip.
>"That I'm here, right?"

>All sorts of colorful memories flood your mind at her words, you remember so much.
>It's feels like it's been such a long time, but you vaguely remember what she used to look like.
>Her skin alike the twilight sky
>...
>Haha
>You remember her always getting pouty and annoyed when you jokingly told her to get a haircut
>You can't help but smile.
>...
>But you also remember always being so uncertain about your relationship.
>Adagio really never was a normal girl, and never very easy to work with
"Are we still the same? You know, as back then?"
>Again, there is silence.
>But Adagio doesn't loosen her grip on your hand.
>No, in fact her fingers then intermingle with yours.
>"No, we aren't. But who says that, that's a bad thing?"
>She always was so confident, but this was different.
>It's hard to hear against the wind, but you can barely make out what sounds like a sniffle
>"... Anon, you dolt..."
>Her hand leaves yours. And soon you can feel the entire warmth of her body as she wraps herself around you in a hug
>You can feel warm and wet fluid on her cheeks as she rubs hers against yours
>You do your best to hold her as her sniffles slowly progress into light sobs, and then to full on crying.
>"I-..."
>The evening continues to get colder, but adagio gets warmer and warmer as she continues to cry and try to speak through her gasps
>"I-I'm..-!"
>You hold her tightly, and do your best to quiet the emotional girl
>You already knew what this meeting was for. Long before you came. As soon as you heard her voice on the phone, really.
>She was sorry. You could hear it deep in her voice. It felt as deep as her soul.
>Both have changed.
"I know, Adagio."
>Her hold on you begins to tighten, almost to hold onto you for dear life as she tries to catch her breath.
>As air returns to her lungs, the best she can do to speak, is a quiet whisper in your ear
>"D-do you...? Can you forgive me... Anon?"

>You remember the last face you saw, before darkness completely took your eyes.
>You wonder if she still looks the same. If you or anyone you knew still looks the same.
>You doubt the scars around your eyes and across your face have healed, but you haven't asked anyone.
>Not that it mattered.
>Time heals all wounds, that's what people say.
>What do you say?
"Yes, Adagio. I do."
>Her breathing calms, and her grip on you as well.
>It felt almost as if she was asleep in your arms again.
>She wasn't saying anything, instead just nudging closer into you, no doubt covering both of you in a jungle of her hair as she did before.
>And, as the evening air turned to the cold night air, you held her closely.
>Both of you now peering into darkness, together.