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Zoe had been watching Dylan for a little while. It was something that she found herself doing more and more. No, it wasn’t because of anything suspect, get your mind out of the gutter. She just found him...interesting. That was the word that she justified her looking with. And in all her completely platonic (don’t think about it too much) watching she had noticed something.
He would squint his eyes whenever he would look at something far away. She had noticed it first when he had shown up at the Watchtower. He had looked at all the weird stuff going around Manhattan through squinted eyes. She had brushed it off as just him squinting through the glare. She hadn’t known him that well nor had he stuck around for too long, disappearing to throw himself at the problem.
But then she kept on noticing things whenever he would show up at the Watchtower with updates or just to talk. He would squint whenever he was talking to her, whenever he tried to look at what was written on the whiteboards, or when he would look through the files that he collected during his exploration. She was quickly building a theory that she decided to bring up during one of these visits.
"Why do you squint?" She asked in her usual tact, or lack thereof.
"What?" He looked up from a file he was flipping through, squinting again to look at her.
"You’re doing it right now."
Dylan considered it for a moment before shrugging. "I don’t know, I’ve always done it."
"Does it make it easier to see?"
"I guess," Dylan shrugged again. Zoe wanted to ask him more questions but the world decided it wasn’t to be. Her radio crackled to life and Director Pope needed Dylan to deal with an insurgency of Hiss that had decided to get really close to The Oldest House. He jumped up and hurried towards the mysterious door in the Watchtower, no doubt teleporting to help Pope.
That left Zoe to provide support, bantering over the radio and generally providing him company. She couldn’t stop thinking about his answer. Squinting made it easier to see. That was concerning. He was throwing himself in front of danger and if he was having trouble seeing that could get him killed. As his handler, and his friend, it was Zoe’s responsibility to ensure that he stayed safe.
"Jones," she called out to one of the rangers hanging about the Watchtower, "I need you to find all the spare prescription glasses that you can."
"Why?"
"Because I ordered you to," Zoe raised an eyebrow. Did this man really want to argue with his commander? Jones sighed before saluting and hurrying out. It was hard to find good help. At least the rangers obeyed her without her needing to threaten them. And Jones was an efficient worker. Within a few hours she had a small pile of glasses on her desk, all of different styles and strength. There were even a few glasses that were still in CVS packaging. It seemed like Jones had some fun breaking into stores around Central.
She was looking through them when Dylan sauntered into the Watchtower. Zoe dropped the pink frames that she was holding back into the pile. Dylan froze. They both stared at each other. He squinted at the pile of glasses, probably trying to figure out what Zoe was looking through. She couldn’t but imagine a confused puppy, tilting his head as he met something he didn’t understand. Her heartrate picked up.
Not now Zoe, she took a deep breath. "Hey Dylan, what’s up?"
"Just came to check in, but you seem to be...uh, busy?"
"No, this is actually...for you," she hated how her voice cracked as she said that. Why did she get suddenly feel hot? Her cheeks tinged red, trying to read Dylan’s reaction.
"For me?" He tilted his head, looking more like that kicked puppy that she couldn’t help but want to wrap him in a hug. If she ever found Casper Darling, he would not be escaping her sight without being put six feet under.
"Well, you mentioned that you had trouble seeing and I thought one of these," she picked up a pair of glasses, a blue square frame with thick glasses, "...might help."
"Oh. That’s..." he looked around the Watchtower, suddenly very interested in the bare studs and insulation.
"I’m not trying to force anything on you, lord knows you’ve had enough of that, I was just hoping that one of these might...help. I already said that. I don’t know what I just said that again," she clamped her mouth shut.
"If you think it’ll help," Dylan stepped forward and looked at the pile of glasses, "Where did you find these?"
"I asked Jones to gather them. He did a pretty good job, I think."
"You think one of these will help?"
"They might. It’s not like we can go to an optometrist right now."
"A...what?"
"An eye doctor Dylan. God if I ever get my hands on Dr. Darling, he’s going to with he stayed missing," Zoe couldn’t stop the anger from creeping into her voice.
"He’s probably dead, you know?" Dylan said with a little smile.
"But if he isn’t..." she strangled an invisible Darling, which got a little chuckle out of Dylan.
"Good to know you’ll get to him before I do."
"Oh, that man isn’t coming anywhere near you. No one is." A moment of silence passed between them, Zoe realizing the magnitude of what she had just said. It wasn’t a lie, but she didn’t know how Dylan would feel about that. He looked a little stunned, a glimmer of something in his eyes. Oh fuck. Did she say the wrong thing? She needed to fix this.
"Anyways...the glasses."
Dylan cleared his throat, "Yes, uh, the glasses."
"Since we can’t measure your eyes, you’ll just need to try them until we find the best one."
Dylan picked up the pink glasses and put them on, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of his face, looking around the room before taking them off. "I can’t see anything through that."
Zoe took the pair from his hand and put them on one of the small tables to the side. "Alright, put all the bad ones here."
They spent the next ten minutes going through the pile of glasses, the bad pile growing steadily. The few glasses that worked were piled close to Dylan, for later comparison. Some looked good, while others looked horrendous. There were a couple that were good but Dylan put off to the side when he saw her face. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t like the way some of them looked like on his face. Some of them clashed against his face. Some looked bad with his beard. Others made his eyes look too small. Others threw off the entire balance of his face.
"Okay, so we have...five glasses to choose from," Dylan said. "Anything you like?"
"Why are you asking me? Which one’s do you like?"
"I like all of these, but I want to know which one you like."
"Why?"
"You’re my friend. And I trust you to make sure I look...alright."
Zoe fought to keep the blush away from her cheeks, "Just alright Faden?"
"Alright is enough for me. If it is for you."
Zoe needed to look away from him. She looked at the pairs of glasses, all the ones that worked and made him look good. There was one pair that drew her hand. A mostly frameless design with large lenses. She picked up the glasses and brought them to Dylan’s face. Without asking she leaned forward and slowly slipped them onto his face. She did it slow enough to give him a chance to stop her if he wanted. His hand didn’t even flick.
The temples of the glasses slipped behind his hair and gently settled on his ears. Her fingers grazed his cheeks as she pulled away. The touch was almost electric. Zoe thought she felt a spark jump between her fingers and his skin. His cheeks reddened a little. A moment passed before Zoe pulled her hands away from him.
He looked good. Dignified yet still very much Dylan.
"You, uh, look good," Zoe said.
"Thanks, um, for this," he gestured towards the pile of glasses. "You didn’t have to do this."
Zoe put a hand on her hip, "I did. I can’t have the only hope of getting out of this mess dying because he can’t see properly."
Dylan laughed, a deep awkward laugh that made Zoe feel warm. What she wouldn’t do to hear him laugh like that.
"I, mm, should probably get back out there," Dylan gestured out to the mess they were still dealing with.
"Alright, I’ll be with you."
"I know," Dylan smiled at her before heading out.
Zoe would be lying is she didn’t need a minute to get that smile out of her head. Dylan, with his glasses and soft smile and generally adorable attitude, had wormed his way into her heart. The warmth in her chest and the blush on her cheeks could only mean one thing. As much as she wanted to ignore it, the glasses had made something evidently clear.
She’d fallen for him.
Oh fuck.