Crying Eye Drawing Novels & Stories

" Are you feeling good down there?" " I am," I peeked at my drawing. Inspecting the somehow horrifying image. Okay! To get this straight...I drew something which almost seemed to look like an eagle...it had wings so long that it occupied the entire space of the paper. The wings had symbols that I saw as designs. I made its eyes wide like that of an owl but its peak was like that of a raven. It was flying, and behind it, I drew a small moon at the corner of the paper, beneath the eagle's feet was a trace of reflecting water.

I looked at his back and felt the tears sting. I turned away, pretending to read the papers on his desk. My vision blurred and I blinked fast, willing the tears away. A crayon drawing caught my eye. Amelia’s stick figures and a big pink heart with the caption.. “Me+Daddy+Elaine.” written across the top. That broke me enough to crack the building tears in me. It was silly, I knew that. Crying over children I hadn't given birth to.

He wept, tears streaming from his light blue eyes, loud, heaving sobs tearing from his throat, and still, he did not look away. Not until the sobs drove him to his knees did his determined gaze fall. His crying was both ferocious and a bit noisy. "Where dah fu*k did I come from?" He said as he scratched his head nonstop He blinked briny tears from bloodshot eyes, his thick lashes stuck together in clumps as if he'd been swimming. The tears made wet tracks down his face and dripped from his stubbled, wobbling chin. Clear watery snot streaked from his flaring nostrils down his red mottled skin to his open quivering lips.

Her eyes, always so bright and innocent, carried none of the pain clawing at my chest. “Mommy,” she said softly, holding the drawing out to me. “This is what I drew today.” I knelt down and took the paper from her, trying to keep my voice steady. It was a simple drawing: the three of us — me, Tessa, and Elena — holding hands, stick figures with big smiles under a sunny sky. Somehow, seeing it made something inside me ache and warm all at once. “This is lovely,” I told her, a small, unexpected laugh escaping my lips despite everything. “You’re really getting so good at this.”

No wonder Killian couldn’t look me in the eye this morning. I reach for the sketch pad Elara left by the nightstand. My fingers tremble, but I grip the pencil like it’s my lifeline. I don’t even think, I just draw. Symbols. Circles. Eyes with fire spilling from them. A wolf with a shattered spine. A crown that burns. A clock with no hands. My hand stops only when I notice the paper trembling beneath my touch. Not from me. From the floor. A low vibration hums through the wood. Like a warning. Something is coming.

“Please!” He chuckled as if pleased with me begging and reached for the last drawing. When he held it up, Adam’s face stared back at me, raw and unfinished. The words fell out of my mouth before I could think. “NO!” I lunged for him, struggling to snatch the drawing out of his hands. He drove his fist right into my face, striking my left eye. I watched him drop the drawing and reach for me, raining down his blows on me. When he was satisfied, he shoved me aside and I lay on the ground, crying as he tore the last drawing to bits.

I decided to do something productive with my time and I went to the studios. The last time, I had drawn those eyes of his. It was not my intention to do so, but when his eyes had plagued my mind and I simply could not get it out of my mind, I ended up sketching and soon making it into an actual form of art. I stared at it and found my heart feeling the hurt of his absence and anger towards me. His gaze had been different earlier than the one I drew. The one I drew was simply the facade he wore all the time. He was good looking, charming with an amazing smile and good teeth too. He had the most lovely and cold aura and the best look any woman would want beside a man. But even when he smiled,

Crouching down by his bed, the content of the paper made my hold onto it tighter, nearly crumpling it—it has a drawing of the three of us: Erwin, Reigna, and I, with the faces drawn with sad expressions and a tear in each of our left eye. …I really need to bring her back.

"Start at the beginning." With trembling fingers, I opened the diary. The first page made my breath catch - a child's drawing, surprisingly detailed despite its crude lines. A baby wrapped in a white blanket, held by a man and woman whose faces were drawn with careful attention. They were smiling, but something about their eyes seemed sad, even in crayon. "Is this..." I glanced at Lucian, who nodded silently.

CELINE POV - Along with my puffiness and redness, my eyes felt dry, especially around my eyes from crying so much. I continued to cry even though there were no more tears coming out of my eyes and they were already hurting. Lance tried to calm me down from crying, and now we were sitting in the cabanas while his hand was holding my hand. Looking at my hand that he was holding, I couldn't help but cry… out of joy. “Hey,” When I looked into Lance’s eyes, he folded his pointer finger and gently wiped my cheek.