Snow’s Point of View

The next morning came too quickly, and I woke up feeling even worse than before. My head was pounding, my body ached, and even the smallest ray of sunlight peeking through my curtains felt like a dagger to my eyes.

“Snow,” Zino’s voice called softly from the door. “Dad says it’s time to go.”

I groaned, forcing myself to sit up. “Coming,” I mumbled, though it felt like every bone in my body protested the movement.

By the time I made it downstairs, Karsten was already waiting by the door, keys in hand, while Dad stood nearby, his phone pressed to his ear.

“You ready, little sis?” Karsten asked, his voice softer than usual.

“Yeah,” I replied weakly, pulling on my hoodie as I followed him out to the car.

The drive to the doctor’s office was quiet, the tension in the air palpable. Karsten kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror, his concern evident, but I couldn’t bring myself to say much. My head hurt too much to think straight.

When we arrived, Dad handled the check-in while Karsten and I sat in the waiting room. I leaned my head against his shoulder, too tired to hold myself up properly.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said quietly, patting my hand.

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I believed him.

The doctor’s office was sterile and brightly lit, the kind of place that made you feel small and vulnerable. I sat on the examination table, fiddling with the hem of my hoodie as the doctor—a kind-looking woman with silver glasses—walked in, clipboard in hand.

“Good morning, Miss Snow,” she said, her tone warm and professional. “Let’s see what’s going on, shall we?”

I nodded, giving her a small smile as she began her examination. She checked my temperature, shone a light in my eyes, and asked me a series of questions about my symptoms.

“Headaches, blurry vision, sensitivity to light,” she murmured, jotting down notes. “And how long has this been going on?”

“A few weeks,” I said quietly. “It got worse after I started wearing glasses.”

She nodded thoughtfully, her expression calm but focused. “Have you had any other issues—nausea, dizziness, difficulty focusing?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted.

She spent the next twenty minutes running a series of tests, her movements precise and efficient. By the time she was finished, I felt more drained than ever.

“Well,” she said, setting down her clipboard and turning to face me.

“It seems like you’re dealing with a combination of eye strain and migraines, likely triggered by the adjustment to your glasses and possibly stress.”

“Stress?” I repeated, frowning slightly.

She gave me a knowing look. “It’s not uncommon, especially with major life changes. Your body is reacting to the combination of factors, and it’s manifesting as these headaches and other symptoms.”

“So... what do we do?” Dad asked, his voice firm but calm.

“The good news is that it’s manageable,” the doctor replied. “We’ll adjust the prescription for her glasses to reduce the strain, and I’ll prescribe medication for the migraines.

She also needs rest—both physically and mentally. That means limiting screen time, staying hydrated, and reducing stress as much as possible.”

I let out a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared, but the idea of “reducing stress” felt almost impossible with everything happening in my life.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Dad said, standing to shake her hand.

She smiled warmly. “You’re welcome. I’ll have the new prescription and medication ready shortly.”

As we left the office, I felt a strange mix of relief and exhaustion. At least I had answers now, but the thought of trying to manage everything felt overwhelming.

---

Kingston’s Point of View

I leaned against the hood of my car, watching as Snow and her family walked out of the doctor’s office. She looked tired, her steps slower than usual, but there was a faint flicker of relief in her expression.

Her father noticed me first, his eyes narrowing as he whispered something to Karsten. Snow didn’t notice me right away, but when she did, her gaze softened slightly.

“Kingston,” her father called, his tone sharp. “What are you doing here?”

I ignored him, my focus solely on Snow. “You okay, princess?” I asked, taking a step closer.

She nodded, her voice soft. “The doctor said it’s migraines and eye strain. I just need rest and new glasses.”

“Good,” I said, my voice low. “Glad to hear it.”

Her father stepped between us, his expression hard. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to back off.”

I smirked, meeting his glare without hesitation. “Relax, old man. I’m just making sure my bunny is taken care of.”

“She’s my daughter,” he snapped.

“And she’s mine,” I replied smoothly, my gaze flicking back to Snow. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”

Snow’s face flushed, and she quickly looked away, mumbling something about getting in the car.

“See you soon, princess,” I called as she climbed in, her brothers flanking her protectively.

As their car pulled away, I couldn’t help but smile. She was starting to let her guard down, and that was all I needed.

For now.

Is the mixture of the two characters alright or boring?

Also should I make the chapters longer than this?

Please comment down below😁