Prologue

You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness

-Jonathan Safran Foer

What is love?

Many have asked that question, is it when you want to spend the rest of your life with a person no matter how bad they are? Is it when you care for people? Or is it when you stay up till three in the morning on your birthday to sneak your siblings back in after they sneak out?

To answer those questions, I am just a feeling. Everyone has a way with me. Some don't believe in me, some do.

I have brought many together and broken them apart. I always come unexpectedly, at the wrong times too sometimes but you got to do what you got to do. I am never wrong.

There she was, Olivia Carvier, sauntering down Melby Lane in the small parish of Wellington.

It was a tiny town, really, with not more than a few thousand civilians living in it. As it was modern times and most people lived in urban areas, the town of Wellington was unknown to the world. The county lived on the old ages, more like, the time of Thomas Hardy or Jane Austin. Which brings me to my next topic. Status.

Status was and still is very important. People fed off of gossip in this town. Spreading rumours, talking behind people's back and judging them, it was a habit for the- not so good- people of Wellington.

On top of the status came the Malone family, and at the bottom came Stevens. Some-what in the middle was the Carvier family. And Olivia being the only one left in her youth, was pressured to make a name for the family. But all went too wrong.

It was prestigous. The way she acted. The way she opted with the universe. It was always tough as she was blind, but she, somehow, made it seem like nothing was wrong, but the inside is not always like the outside.

Olivia heard snickers around her as something was tapped onto her back. She dismissed the tap as she thought that it was the teenagers throwing pebbles at her again.

As she walked through town, she heard the laughter grow. Men, and women were laughing at the twenty-three year old and even through her blind fate, she could see that the society was laughing at her.

"You're a blind dimwit?" A voice made her let out a squeal. The voice was hard and cold, it had a sense of hurt and anger in it too.

"Stop laughing you imbeciles!" The voice yelled, the harsh tone made Olivia flinch as the laughter died down.

She did not dare speak a word. Neither did anyone else.

"Come on." He grabbed the blind woman's hand before leading her somewhere unknown.

His hand was rough yet gentle. The naive girl did not question where they were going.

They walked and walked. No one talked. No one made a sound. They just walked.

The sound of calm breaths and the autumn leaves crunching under her feet somehow had a soothing effect on Olivia.

Although all she could see was an endless pit of pitch black, she could recall the memories of the beautiful autumnal leaves, a crimson brown shade. The flowers would wither in this season, which somehow, to Olivia, represented life.

How the flowers would wither in the autumn season represented tough moments in which you would just want to give up, an example would be when Olivia lost her parents. The flowers would flourish in Spring which would represent beauty of Mother Nature and a certain aspect of life called love. Something she had not found yet.

In other words, the life of Olivia Carvier.

Xavier. There was only one word ever so perfect to describe him. Broken. He was broken, shattered in to pieces, pieces that could never be put back together. He had tried. He really did, those memories, those horrified screams, one of a male another of a woman.

He tried therapy, medications. He even tried writing in a diary, an incredulous idea but worth a shot.

The more Xavier went to therapy, the more nightmares he dreamt of, each worse than the other. So he stopped.

Therapy had stopped him from doing things that he desired. Sketching. The only thing his heart tugged him to begin again.

He would sketch for hours upon end, everyday too. He would sketch everything he would find beautiful. But now, the twenty-five year old hardly touched a pencil as he rarely found anything beautiful.

The angel, whose hand he was tugging at and leading her to God knows where, was beautiful to him.

"What's your name?" Xavier broke the calming silence.

He looked up to his right, sinking in the young woman's features.

Her ocean blue eyes, slightly lighter at the iris than the rim. Short wavy hair, not very wavy nor curly though. The brown, honey blond streaks running through, strands looked extremely soft, glistening in the bright sunlight. Her cute button nose. Pink, plump soft lips that you wanna kiss.

She was wearing a white floral dress that hugged her waist and reached her thighs, an off-white knitted cardigan on top and white flats.

The girl hesitated at first, though she did answer. "Olivia." That one simple name was enough to get Xavier's heart racing.

One thing Xavier noticed about the art of blindness was that Olivia's eyes never stopped roaming. From looking at the trees, to looking at the glum ground. But such pity for all she could see was black.

"Olivia." The way her name rolled of his tongue was like smooth soft butter. "Pleasant. I'm Xavier."

Silence. That's what followed after.

* * * *

After a long and painful walk for Olivia, they stopped, meaning they had reached their destination

It was an old cliff, a famous one at that but now forgotten. The only reason Xavier came here was because it was so peaceful, the only sound you could hear when you visited this marvellous site was the rustling of the trees, the chirping birds, the steadiness of your breathing.

Xavier didn't exactly have a reason as to why he had brought Olivia to his favourite site, a site to which he would go alone, desolated from other human beings that are way too judge-y to admire what is in front of them.

"Sorry to disturb your silence but, where are we? You see, I can't see. Yeah, I'm bli-" Olivia was rudely cut off before she could continue her rant.

"I know you're blind Olivia." That was all he said.

"Mr. Xavier, if this is some sort of joke, can I please leave?" Tears welled at the brim of Olivia's blue eyes as she averted her blind gaze to the ground. She tried to pull her petite hand out of the strong man's hand but no avail.

"Do you think I am one to joke?" He replied sternly, searching Olivia's eyes which squinted everywhere.

There was a pregnant pause after that. It was just the sound of their breathing. Olivia recovered rather quickly.

"So, how did you end up blind?" He questioned.

"I'd rather not talk about it." She shakily smiled.

"How do you even have the energy to smile after such a tragic thing happened to you?!" Xavier asked, his expression read 'ludicrous'.

"Because there is hope." Was her reply.

"Bullsh*t" He cursed harshly: which made Olivia flinch. She stayed quiet for a while before speaking;

"Sometimes, I like to listen to the sound of my heartbeat of reassure myself that there is still hope." Olivia murmurred, almost too shy to speak infront of the livid man.

"There is no hope in this dark world." Xavier blantly spat.

"You are wrong." Xavier heard three words that no one beside his mother had ever told him.

"Good day." With that, Olivia walked away from the starstruck man.