All the Little Things.

I blush furiously every single time Leo makes fun of me about how I held his hand so tightly—when he was still in the hospital, mind you—it nearly burst. But it's nice to know that Leo notices the little things, too. Like the way I squeeze his hand way too tightly for it to be good for his health when I'm nervous, or the way he always knows when my pulse is racing and when my heart is speeding up just with a touch to the wrist.



Leo was released from the hospital about twenty minutes ago, three days after he's been treated with as much as he can be. I cry almost every time Leo looks at me because his eyes are different, now. The lush, dense green and warm, melting brown I love are now glazed over with white. I can tell Leo's having trouble adjusting to his loss of sight, who wouldn't? But he's dealing with it as best he can.

"How come your parents didn't come with Mark to see you?" I ask quietly, curiously, on the drive back to his studio.

"My parents are in Spain, I think, they're doing this Mediterranean cruise and the dock for the beginning's in Spain," he replies, and I really wonder why they couldn't drop everything and visit their youngest son, who was in the hospital and now blind.

"Oh," I mumble to Leo, not really knowing what else to say.

"I don't want to ruin their experience," he says, which makes me curious.

"What do you mean? Surely, they've had plenty of time to travel," I say, trying to keep my emotions controlled.

"Well, my mom had my brother when she was nineteen, and she had me when she was twenty two, and my dad didn't want to leave her alone. Plus, they loved each other, a lot, contrary to what most people think about teenagers that fall in love and get pregnant and shit. They spent so long caring for us, and both my parents had to work three jobs to provide for us, so they never really had any personal time. They actually want this trip to be their honeymoon," I'm so shocked by Leo's story. Leo's mother had him at twenty one? They each worked three jobs? I was about to throw my life away when I had a dad and a brother that cared for me and a roof over my head, food to eat, friends that loved me.

"How did your parents afford all those doctors for your depression?" I ask, and then I regret it, because I feel like I'm digging in too deep. "Oh god, please don't answer that. I'm sorry," I blurt out.

"It's okay," Leo says, then laughs. How can he laugh after such a horrible thing has happened to him? "Things picked up for my parents. Because they had Mark, my parents had to drop out of college to take care of him, and me later. But my dad finished college with a degree in neuroscience, so he uses that to help lawyers with cases involving disabilities and drug impairments,"

"Wow," I say, because it's really all I can say. After a few minutes of silence, we finally arrive. I have to help Leo out of the car, and have him just stand there while I grab his cane the doctor gave to him. I put it in Leo's hand, and he grins.

"This is actually kinda cool," he says, the smile still present on his face, and I want to cry because of how much optimism is in his voice. "I could get used to this!" I only smile back sadly, and realize that Leo can't see me.

"Okay, do you know where we're going?" I ask him, and he stops in the middle of the parking garage.

"Wait, can you tell me where we are, first? Like, details. Please." He says, his head turning, as if he's looking around.

"We're about five yards from the elevator," I say, not really knowing what he means by "details."

"Oh!" he exclaims, and that bright smile is back on his face. I try my hardest not to grin as wide as he is. He starts walking forward, using small steps at first, and slowly increasing his pace. He even laughs, until he runs into a fire hydrant.

"Ow! Mother of cheese and fries!" he shouts, rubbing his knee, but he's still laughing.

"Cheese and fries?" I ask, laughing my ass off.

"Yeah, it was in Jennifer's Body! That movie wasn't even scary. Total waste of money, don't watch it." I laugh, and as we walk forward once more, I take Leo's free arm and loop it through mine as we walk to the elevator, together, a pessimist (although I'm not all too sure if that's what I really am anymore, thanks to Leo) and an optimist.