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Her voice was merely a whisper, "Lance," she called her husband. A man not far, laying next to her as they dazed into the sky. Well, as he dazed into the sky and she attempted to take in the fresh air; She's been completely blind since the incident with Lance's Dragonite months ago.
"Yes, love?" The champion, despite working with the most intimidating types himself, was gentle in his tone. This is the little time they get together. Lance loves his wife deeply. Even if they're only married due to the circumstances.
When he answered, Autumn sighed. "I think I'm slowly forgetting your face."
Lance looked over to her. His heart just about dropped. Why would she say that? Why would she say such a cruel, hateful thing? That isn't her character.
But unfortunately, it made sense. Autumn lost her sense of sight when Dragonite hit her with Hyper Beam. She can't see anything anymore. She depended on the sense so much before it was taken from her, all from a careless mistake by him.
It hits him; Autumn used to see his face all of the time. Lance remembered catching her glance as she studied his eyes, his jawline, or that hair dangling in front of his face. Knowing how much she loved him then (as much as she does now), she likely memorized his face very well. She likely remembered all of him.
Alas, that was an assumption. And Lance seemed to be wrong. While a woman as smart as her has a good memory, it's only natural that it starts to lapse. Especially when it comes to something visual, something that is reaffirmed with more input and analysis.
Something she can't do now.
"Oh," It was spoken with inevitable hurt, "I should have assumed you would."
"I'm sorry."
A short pause. How do they proceed? What's there to process? This is his wife and he is her husband. How does he handle this?
"Don't apologize," He muttered, sitting up, fixing his cape. "You don't need to apologize for that."
She processed his words. A slow blink. "Right. I can't really–" she sat up herself, attempting to turn toward Lance's direction. He was still on her left, right?
"–It only makes sense," he responded, as his right hand took her left hand. His thumb ran over her ring, a solid band he hastily got to have some sort of tradition in their marriage. He didn't regret it, really. Lance loved this woman, and apparently, she loved him back. They didn't realize the feelings were mutual until two weeks after their legal marriage. Then they finally indulged in the domestic feeling of being in love.
"Unfortunately." Her expression solemn, almost frustrated. This was her husband and she is his wife; How does one forget something of such importance?
Lance had a different idea though. He brought her left hand to his face, laying his right cheek against it. Obviously, Lance's face was scarred from years in his profession, dealing with ferocious Pokémon; All of the stories seemed to be recalled as her palm pressed into his jawline. As painful as these stories likely were to him, his right hand on her wrist insisted that she felt them on his face herself.
"I guess you'll just have to trust your touch then."