Black People With Gray Eyes Novels & Stories

I said. "What's with the weird teeths then?" A man yelled. I held my hand up, checking out my teeth. I could feel it all of a sudden, two teeths sharper than others on opposite sides. Mythological facts had called them fangs… How could I have them? "Her eyes aren't black no more." The sun had suddenly begun to affect me, my eyes felt heavy, burning with the intense sunlight. That wasn't enough to prove that I was a monster, they're just frightened.

Confused, I glanced up and realized that I wasn't alone in this space. Across from me sat a guy, holding a blunt in his hand. His gaze locked onto mine, and in that moment, I almost forgot why I had been crying. His beautiful dark skin glowed under the moonlight, adorned with an array of tattoos that covered every inch of his body. Neatly braided cornrows cascaded down his shoulders, and his chiseled jaw tensed intermittently. His lips had a captivating shade of pink-a striking combination of features. And then there were his eyes. A light shade of gray, almost blending with the white of his eyes. They possessed a cold yet captivating allure.

Something worse. He stands roughly two inches taller than me. His black hair is combed back. Slick with gel. His color scheme is black and white. Like a panda. But nothing like said animal. He walks with vigor and a domineering prowess. But what kicks everything into limbo is his face. It sharp. Too sharp. It seems to be made of porcelain. Almost as white as my skin. But something else. Like it's been bleached. Bleached with so many chemicals it has no hope of returning to any healthy color. His eyes are grey. Almost like storm clouds. No. Nothing like storm clouds. I know that color too well. It can only be described in my words as the color of dead elephant skin.

Black, this has always been a picture of misfortune, however, people with this aura often is being close to death, their time in earth was limited, they are selfish and stubborn, it will take forever to changed that. Gray, people with this aura are always skeptical; trust is not for them, even with tons of facts, and evidence before them; they always see the glass half empty, but they are great ally, they are prepared to offer someone their lives. White, most people have this aura, it was well known to be a balance aura; they are neither good nor bad, they aren’t giver nor receiver. They are just balance, standing in between, they don’t often go in a battle they may be exposed, they always w

"Well, you look extremely beautiful." "Your eyes are a different color, one I have not seen on people your kind? "Black people, you mean?" Grace blushed "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect you. That was very...racist of me. Forgive me." She babbled. Bonnie smiled, "it's okay." "May I continue?" Grace asked Bonnie nodded.

Still, she is very kind and understanding for her age. I raised my eyes and met Marcus’s cold blue gaze watching me over the rim of his wine glass. I faced my own plate and didn’t look up at him again. Just as dessert was being cleared for the main meal, Angela spoke up. “Mommy, Bella said my eyes and hair are scary.” “Why would she say that? There’s nothing scary about your eyes or your hair, sweetie,” I said, playing oblivious. Angela was born with the rarest grey eyes and a streak of white in her hair—a trait from my side of the family. Two of my half-brothers had it, and so did my father.

It emerged from the darkness like a sculpture being revealed, one feature after another. High cheekbones that could cut glass appeared first followed by a straight, aristocratic nose. Then came the full lips that might have been beautiful if they weren't pulled back in an expression of rage or agony, I couldn't tell which. The jaw was elegant but somehow wrong, the angle too sharp, the bone structure just slightly off from human normal. And the eyes. Goddess help me, the eyes! They were completely black, without a trace of white or iris like endless darkness that seemed to go on forever into a bottomless pit.

Ethan analyzed. "You thought the same way, and so did I at first, but that's not her natural hair color." "What? Her hair isn't her natural color? Then what is her original hair color?" Ethan sounded surprised and didn't expect that answer. "Black," Grey replied shortly. "Black, you mean like Keyara's hair color?" "Yes, it's something strange, isn't it? Even their figures and hair colors are the same, a coincidence that's more like a miracle," Grey replied enthusiastically.

She even had the audacity to call him rude! Suddenly, while he was taking a closer look at Rose, he finally realized that her eyes were the color of gray and not blue. The more he stared at those gray eyes the more it felt familiar to him, but he pushed that thought aside because the eyes he remembered had a spark of life in them. But the eyes he was staring at were completely dead, they had no touch of living and life in them, and this was another that caught his attention. How can a young girl like her possess this kind of eyes, so dark and melancholy as if it was made out of the ashes of people she had killed. Despite the darkness in her eyes, they were beautiful like the thick, prowling,

I say to Emerald and Lucas as I shrug my shoulders, my eyes are cast down at the table. “What did this guy look like again?” Lucas asks, leaning forward with his hands folded together in front of him. “Tall, lean, and muscular. His hair was black, with gray streaks. He may have been in his late thirties or so. His eyes, though. They were bluish-gray, like storm clouds or something. They creeped me out,” I say as a shiver runs up my spine just picturing his face again. “Bram…” Emerald says in a whisper to Lucas. I can see she is uncomfortable.