I’ve always had a thing for blue eyes.
You look into them, and imagine the ocean or the sky. Or maybe a Forget-Me-Not in a field of roses. Sure, green is radiant, but blue is ethereal, with so many different shades to choose from.
And there’s this thing about eye contact that I absolutely adore. With a person’s eyes on you and yours on them, you both know you’re giving each other your undivided attention--
Attention--
It’s the loveliest feeling in the world.
With beautiful eyes, you’ve hit the jackpot. You can admire them and feel special at the same time, with their thoughts on you.
But out of all the eyes I’ve ever seen, I liked Becka's the most. She had the softest shade of baby blue that contrasted with her jet black hair in the most satisfying way. For the life of me, I never understood why she had to smother the eyes in black liner--but I held my tongue. In the long run, it wouldn’t matter anyway.
One afternoon, I finally took matters into my own hands. Becka had left the window open a notch to her room--probably intending to let the breeze in.
I couldn’t help what happened next. Her eyes are just so beautiful. I have to say, though, it’s not the same sensation when they’re on my shelf.
You look into them, and imagine the ocean or the sky. Or maybe a Forget-Me-Not in a field of roses. Sure, green is radiant, but blue is ethereal, with so many different shades to choose from.
And there’s this thing about eye contact that I absolutely adore. With a person’s eyes on you and yours on them, you both know you’re giving each other your undivided attention--
Attention--
It’s the loveliest feeling in the world.
With beautiful eyes, you’ve hit the jackpot. You can admire them and feel special at the same time, with their thoughts on you.
But out of all the eyes I’ve ever seen, I liked Becka's the most. She had the softest shade of baby blue that contrasted with her jet black hair in the most satisfying way. For the life of me, I never understood why she had to smother the eyes in black liner--but I held my tongue. In the long run, it wouldn’t matter anyway.
One afternoon, I finally took matters into my own hands. Becka had left the window open a notch to her room--probably intending to let the breeze in.
I couldn’t help what happened next. Her eyes are just so beautiful. I have to say, though, it’s not the same sensation when they’re on my shelf.
