She stood in a crowded room.
So many faces. So many figures.
Everyone had someone, they were busy. They were either in a conversation or fascinated by one.
All she was trying to do was look for a familiar face.
A room full of people, how could she feel so alone?
She wore a simple dress, not drawing too much attention to herself.
She stood, probably looking like a lost girl at a carnival, but who cared? She only came into the room looking for someone to give her a ride home, where it’s safe. Where solitude is.
She’s searching, just looking for someone. Anyone. Who could take her home. Away from the world, away from people.
That’s when her eyes sees his.
He is in a group. Why would he stare at her?
That question doesn’t register her mind when he’s literally doing it. Staring at her.
Is she supposed to look away?
Is she supposed to walk away?
Is he trying to say something to her?
Questions, useless questions. She doesn’t care about them right now.
All she cares is staring into that oh so familiar face.
Maybe later, she could convince herself that she only stared because he was the only person that was familiar to her in a room full of people.
She didn’t look anywhere but his eyes.
She didn’t smile, didn’t cower.
He didn’t smirk, didn’t stop.
They just stared at each other.
Who knows how long?
Seconds… minutes… hours…
It felt like forever.
It was like he could tell her all he needed to say, and she could do the same.
It was intense.
Their eyes were the window to the other’s soul, and the window was so wide open that a bird could fly in and cause a commotion… and still neither would notice.
Because they’re too occupied with each other. Telling the other one things that could never come out of their mouth.
What are they saying you might wonder?
No one knows but the two of them.
Unfortunately the moment ends, it can’t last forever.
The girl is approached by another familiar face, telling her that they could give her a ride.
So she goes with them, not having enough strength to look back at him and confess to herself the risk she just took, giving in to her feelings.
How could something so innocent turn into a consequence?
Maybe you could convince her it was nothing, that’s what she convinced herself. To stop the familiar feelings that she’s long forgotten.
If only she knew.
But what would she believe, his actions or his eyes?
Either way, she couldn’t live in the killing curiosity of the situation.
So, she stored the memory in the back of her mind, almost as if it never happened. Like every other memory of him. But this memory would be in the farthest reach.
Because out of everything, she couldn’t handle his eyes. They were too much. They said too much, too much for her to contain, to read into. She was reading too much, so she had to close the book.
Eye connection is intimate.
It’s about you and another connecting on another level.
I have this thing about eyes.
Even if it’s a boring brown like mine. To me, brown eyes aren’t boring.
They’re anything but that.
All eyes are different, they’re lovely.
No matter the mask you put on, the eyes will always recognize the person behind the mask. Because the eyes are it. No matter what, you’ll always recognize them.
They’ll always bring you back, no matter what.
The eyes are magical like that.
Someone has the ability to look at them, and learn bits and pieces of a person.
Eyes can say the things that can never come out of your mouth.