inspired by an imagineyourotp prompt from tumblr that went like this: [Imagine Person A of your OTP needing glasses but is emberrassed by wearing them all the time so they just put them on for reading. Person B catches them with glasses on and is baffled but how well they suit them. In Person B grabs Person A's glasses, putting them on asking them how good they look wearing them. Person A just comments that they can't see them clearly and that they'd have to move closer and closer until Person B's close enough to kiss Person A.]

Takes place during the end of "Forever Rose."

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It's a well-known fact that Permanent Rose Casson, aged eleven, has never liked her glasses. They have embarrassed her and annoyed her ever since she had to get them when she was eight. Life was much better when blurry, at least according to Rose. She thought that looking at life through blurry eyes helped her art, though her art never manifested as anything like Van Gogh's.

In the days leading up to Christmas, Rose had finally discovered a good use for her glasses - they were wonderful for reading! Rose wasn't about to let her family know that she appreciated her hated glasses at last, hoping that she'd never be discovered.

Rose chose a book from her shelf - The Once and Future King - and sat down on her narrow bed, her glasses perched on her nose. Her cheeks pinkened as she imagined Tom as Lancelot, a favourite habit of hers to do.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, strains of guitar music floated up the stairs.

When you came to New York, you were my favourite person in New York... the chords were saying, and they were coming closer... and closer...

Rose hid beneath her book. Her heart began to beat quickly. What if Tom saw her in her glasses? What would he think?

"Permanent Rose?" came a voice at the door.

Rose continued to hid beneath her book, refusing to say anything. Finally,

"Go away, Tom. I look hideous."

She peeked up at him from underneath her book, finding Tom smiling at her.

"I look hideous. In these glasses," Rose continued, daring Tom to contradict her.

"No, you don't," Tom said softly. He crossed over to her bed, his gaze locked with hers. Rose felt as if a large tiger was staring at her and couldn't pull away from his stare. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear your glasses. They look really good on you."

"You bloody liar!" Rose exploded. She tried to take them off, but Tom snatched her glasses out of her hand.

Tom placed them on his face as Rose's blurry vision returned. The Tom in front of her was a mosaic of brown and green.

"Well, come on, Permanent Rose, how do I look?" Tom asked.

Rose pouted.

"I don't know, I can't see you. Everything's all blurry."

"Shall I move closer?"

Rose pouted.

"I don't know, I can't see you. Everything's all blurry."

"Shall I move closer?"

"If you want."

"Permanent Rose, can you see me now?"

"You still look blurry."

"Is this close enough?"

Rose felt a delicate softness brush against her lips, like the tremble of a butterfly's wings. She looked up into Tom's eyes.

Her answer was a whisper.

"Yes."

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