1060 Words

Link stands in front of the mirror, back to me, clipping his belt to his shorts. The action is a bit redundant because he can't see himself, but he does it anyway. And of course, I'm stupidly gay so my eyes wander to, er, places...

"You're fit" my brain loses control for a minute and I blurt that out.

"I'm not fit, I'm thin." He replies, doing his hair now.

"No, like, really fit." I took a step down this road, might as well see where it leads.

"Occupational hazard."

"Really really fit."

"I can do a backflip with a 200-pound Lynel club on my back. I have to be fit, you idiot."

"You kill all the fun. Where are you going, dressed like that?"

He sits down on the floor and fastens his boots to his feet. Shiny, golden boots that merge into his knee pads, which in turn connect to his red pants. The kind of pants that sort of puff out, that the Gerudo wear.

"Desert. I've got something to do."

"Not the town, I hope?"

He blushes madly, blind eyes looking down. I wonder if he's been in the town, really. Vah Naboris must've been a pain when they won't let you help. It makes sense, masquerading as a woman, and Link could certainly pull it off. His eyes are pretty feminine... just cover the rest of his face and there you have it. I wonder what that would look like?

I sculpt a mental picture, completely lost in my own world, and when I come back to reality, he's gone.

It's incredulously hot. What would I expect from a desert? The sand whips my hair around my face wildly, and I realize, slowly, that I'm kinda lost. There isn't much to help me find my way in the desert. It's all sand and open space.

I whistle shrilly, and I hear my horse come galloping, neighing angrily, confusedly. She... doesn't like teleporting as much as I do.

"Epona, shh, shh, it's okay." I pet her mane, and she snorts at the sight of blood from my mouth. I mount the steed, feeling around in the mechanical saddle until I'm seated right, with the saddle horn between my legs. "Take me to Kilton's shop, would you?"

She snorts in agreement and I'm jerked forward in the saddle, the sand getting in my eyes but not affecting me at all. I'm blind. What's a grain of sand gonna do? Luckily, Epona is a smart girl, and she can find her way. Incredible memory, she's got.

What feels like a short time later, I hop down from the saddle, having arrived. I give Epona an apple and, after a few tries, tie her to a fence pole outside the shop. I walk in, the bell making a loud ding-a-ling noise as I open the door.

"Ah! It's you again!" Kilton exclaims, clapping his hands.

I slowly walk up to the counter, brushing the wall with my hand. "Could you help me with something? A special elixir, maybe?"

"Of course!" I hear clinking sounds, then feel my personal space get invaded. I back up a bit. "What genre of elixir?"

I inhale deeply, feeling blood drip down my chin. Kilton sounds unfazed. "I want my sight back."

Don't is a contraction of do not. Blush is a contraction of blood rush. Studying is a contraction of student dying.

I wonder if Link is having a better time than I am right now. I keep trying to focus on my book but it isn't working — my brain keeps wandering to other places, more interesting places. (Coughcoughgayerplacescough)

The familiar Sheikah Slate chime sounds, and I shut my book with too much enthusiasm, waiting for Link to appear. I wonder what he did in the desert? There isn't much else than the town, and he can't really get in there — at least not how he's currently dressed.

Of course, since I wasn't there, he comes back full of blood. Most of it is on his face, I assume from talking to passerby.

"Well hello." I deadpan.

"Shut it."

"Somebody's mad, hm? C'mere, you have blood everywhere." I say that in a light tone, casual tone. It's deeply wrong that this is normal for us. Very deeply wrong. I stand and wet a cloth, beckoning uselessly with my hand for him to come and sit near me.

To my delight, he obliges, although somewhat grumpily, sitting on the bed. He's not directly across from me, but that's okay — the act that he's facing me is a miracle. "Now, what happened?"

"Regular day — talking to merchants. They know me by now."

"What were you buying?"

"A recipe."

"You cook?" How does a blind person cook? How would he know what's in which jar? I mean, sure, braille works, but he can't read braille. Nobody uses that except old textbooks. He leans closer to me and I cup his face with my hand, wiping some blood off.

"I can make elixirs, but cooking... isn't my strong suit."

I smile. Of course, elixirs count as cooking, too. I remember — he couldn't cook even when he could see. Before the Calamity, even, when things were less complicated. I remember him sitting next to Mipha, both of them giggling at how terrible his food was. It was so clear that she liked him. Had I been a bit older, I would've caught on.

I finish with the blood on his face, and realize that the bottom half is lighter than the top. I smile; sand is so dirty, isn't it? I flip the cloth around to the cleaner part and finish the job.

"There."

He smiles at me, teeth white. I kiss his forehead, then his nose, and the kiss on the mouth he meets halfway. It ends quickly, much too quickly for my liking, so I kiss him again. He lets out a surprised squeak and freezes for a moment before quite literally melting into me.

Link.exe has stopped working, I guess, because even after I pull away he's panting and red, eyes wide and looking around, quiet.

"You like that, don't you?" I tease, expecting denial. Instead, I get a shy reply:

"Could you... do that again?"

I lean in close, voice low. "Of course."