After an acid attack left half of Abir's body disfigured and scarred, he often spends his time picking fights with anyone that even looks at him the wrong way, but when he comes across Mishti who's adamant on finishing her bucket list before her next birthday so she can finally paint the last piece of her collection, he finds himself falling for the woman who in being unable to see him, actually sees him the best.

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With the metallic clang of jail bars being pulled to one side came the sense of freedom that had been promised when twenty-four gruelling hours had passed. Time had no meaning when housed in a jail cell, seconds, minutes and hours would tick by in a manner that clung them together so the torture of loneliness would last that little bit longer.

Stepping out from between the white, chipping brick walls, he pulled his knitted black jumper over his head to cover the muscles adorned in fragments of creased scars and old burns that always looked new. His tanned skin coiled over one half of his body only to be met with a darker brown and a bloody red when it reached the middle. Flexing his arms as he stretched his back, he grimaced at the sharp click in his neck from yet another hand placed there that had no right.

At least once a week he was thrown into a cell because some good for nothing stranger made a harsh comment or gave him a scathing look that sent him into a wild frenzy of pursuit ending in bruised knuckles, torn ligaments, broken bones and the county jail becoming more of a home than the twelve-bed apartment he'd once worked so hard for.

Solitude suited him well, he hated people because with people came expectations that one of them would look past the remnants of acid and see him for who he really was, the man he'd always been even after the label of victim had been burned deep into his skin till it sunk to the depths of his soul.

"Bhai saab, please?" A feminine voice broke him from his thoughts. "Just five minutes in a cell" her hand raised, fingers waggling in desperation.

"Hm," Abir's lips curled into a smirk, what kind of woman begged to go to jail? Not one he'd ever met, that was for sure. But any desire to start up a conversation with her quashed itself the second he caught a glance of himself in the smashed mirror that showed him what he really was; burnt, broken and beaten down. Wandering over to the desk, he signed atop the dotted line "My stuff?"

"Madam, if jail is where you want to go so badly, hang with him, he's here every other night" the officer scowled at him, "Maybe we should start charging rent?"

Mishti turned her head ever so slightly just to make out the outline of a tall figure whose body warmth radiated heat to her shivering one. Her hand shot out, nails pricking his chest "Hi, I'm Mishti".

At first, he dropped his gaze to her hand, brows closing in at the excitement so clear in her tone and the fact she even wanted to touch him, did she not see what everyone else saw? Lifting his head slowly, he gulped at the milky whites of her eyes cloudy in smoke that hid a pale blue, from the corner of his eye he noted the long stick that had a strap around her left wrist. It all made sense now, she only did not care for his appearance because she could not see his appearance. "Abir" he murmured, ignoring her hand that was miles from his anyway as he collected his belongings.

"Officer Uncle tells me you can get me into a cell, can you?" She stared directly at him, nose scrunched up to inhale the sharp scent of spice and musk that surrounded him.

"You are aware if I frequent cells that makes me a criminal, I could be dangerous".

She shrugged "Yes, but if you were the dangerous type you'd be in a long time prison not a cell" she pointed out happily.

He almost laughed, she wasn't wrong, but wasn't quite right either, yes he wasn't the worst kind of criminal, but anyone in this town would tell her he was by far the most lethal individual living here. "Why do you even want to go in one anyway?"

"I'm a painter, I have an exhibition soon that will showcase all of my pieces, I have one piece left to make and in order to make it I need to explore different things, I have a bucket list of things to experience, since it's not like I can draw from memory" she laughed, "I've been blind since birth, well not fully at first, it just got worse, I see light and dark and I can make out some colours" tired of repeating her life story, she bit her lip, fell silent then clenched her stick. "So, will you help?"

He admired her very straight to the point attitude, but that didn't change the fact that if she could see, she wouldn't go near him. He wasn't the do gooder type either "You're in the right place to find people who can get you into a cell, but I'm not one of them, break a law, you'll get yourself in that way".

The second she heard his feet begin to move, her cane scratched the ground as she followed "Wait, wait".

Abir stopped, snapping loudly: "What?"

"You help me and I'll help you" she waddled a little closer.

He scoffed "How could you possibly help me? You're blind" instant regret coloured his face, he hadn't meant it how it sounded, but taking it back would mean he broke his one rule, Abir never apologised and he wasn't going to start now.

Though she didn't exactly seem to mind. "There's more to life than what we can or cannot see" she smiled sadly at his ignorance, "The day I lost my sight I realised how heavily people depend on theirs, there is more to me than what I don't have" her anklets tinkled as she turned the other way. "What you lose does not define you, what you find does" with a sprinkle of wisdom she headed off.

I couldn't decide between my 2 fav couples, so I wrote it on both!

Side note- I will try to write Mishti's blindness as respectfully as I can, but I am not blind, so may mess up sometimes, so bare with me please!