Crawford doesn’t like his glasses. Something about a person who can see the future not being able to see two feet in front of him agitates him. Schuldig happens to love them. There’s something inherently sensual about the way they are a part of Crawford. The way the light flashes off them when he’s being just plain evil. The way he squints when they’re in bed--the glasses taken off so they don’t break. The way he cleans them, long fingers stroking the lenses...

He smiles, "You should get contacts.”

He can’t let Crawford know the truth, now can he?