Hello all! Only five more days until TFSA JThis prompt is a product of my own mind- I believe that there is only one more requested prompt that I have not done yet, and so if any of you are interested in requesting prompts, feel free to do so! I will do my best to accommodate as many people as possible. Hope you enjoy!

Glasses- humor & romance drabble

"Oh, crap," Simon said to himself, squinting at the ground and seeing nothing but the blurred colours of the carpet on the floor. Dropping to his knees, he began to search everywhere, when suddenly he heard a crunch. "Oh, crap." He moved his hand in the direction of the crunch, and sure enough, there they were: his glasses, split in two. The weight of the disaster weighing upon him, he put half his glasses in his left hand and half in his right, looking at the two blurs he was holding and only aware of the fact that they should have been one blur. "…Crap."

Isabelle was sitting on the edge of her bed reading a magazine when her phone rang. "SI," the screen read. Putting aside her magazine and lifting the phone to her ear, she hit answer. "Hey," her voice was high, she realized, like a little girl. She hadn't spoken all day yet, she realized, as she was alone at the Institute- of course her voice sounded funny.

"Isabelle," Simon's voice was frantic on the other end of the line, "My glasses. They're broken, literally, the frames down the middle, and I can't see anything… can you, uh, help me fix them, maybe?" Isabelle sighed, wondering how her boyfriend had not found the obvious solution yet.

"Use duct tape?"

"I can't see well enough to find the duct tape. This is why I am calling you. I need help finding it…" Isabelle sighed. Simon could be a real piece of work when he wanted to be.

"Yeah yeah," She folded the corner of the page of the Cosmo she was reading to mark her place. "I'll be right over."

::P::

Simon couldn't do anything as he waited for Isabelle. At first, he tried to play DS to pass the time, but after realizing that there was no way in hell he was ever going to see the screen, he decided to settle simply for staring at the wall. He could hardly contain his excitement when the doorbell rang. Finally.

Simon supposed that Isabelle looked fantastic when she opened the door: cherry red lips, long ebony hair tied up with a pink bow with black polka dots, a tiny black dress with pink stripes down the sides, her usual heels, but Simon rather just saw a pink and black blob. He cursed his own misfortune.

"Dude," Isabelle said. "What is wrong with you?"

"What?"

"The duct tape is literally-" she walked over the table that was right in front of the door, "-right here. Seriously, I was here for all of ten seconds and I found it." She stretched out a hand. "Gimme your glasses." He complied. Simon watched the blob that was Isabelle's hands work as she put his glasses back together, winding the tape.

"Here, try them." He put them on his face and his breath was taken away, as it was every time that he saw his beautiful girlfriend. The effect that Isabelle had on him was amazing, he thought, and, as an added bonus, her outfit was exactly as he imagined.

She was gorgeous. Then she started to laugh at him.

"Dude, you need new glasses. You're a walking fashion disaster." Simon rolled his eyes at her.

"Yes, yes I need new glasses. I'll work that out. Thanks."

"I'll join you. I'll help you pick out sexy ones."

"Fine."

Isabelle looked down at her heels and started to play with her feet. "Simon?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you really call me over to find the duct tape?"

Simon said nothing.

"Because, um, I'm alone at the Institute too. I'm a little lonely right now, and I was kind of hoping that, uh, you called me over to keep you company." Simon blanched. Isabelle had read his mind. It was kind of a scary thing. Isabelle smiled back. She knew, he realized. She knew that he wanted her company, knew that he just wanted to spend some time with her.

"Fine," he conceded. "Maybe I did have some ulterior motive." Isabelle flopped over on Simon's couch.

"Put in that Death Star movie."

"Star Wars?"

"Yeah," she said, "whatever. The Death Star one. With the hot one in all black."

"You think Darth Vader is hot? Ew."

"Just put it in."

Simon smiled, popping in the tape. Sitting on the couch next to her and putting his arm around her, Isabelle smiled.

He had never been happier to see it all.