Eye Of Observation Novels & Stories

Once I got my eyesight back, I would get a proper job. Work felt longer than usual that day. They only stopped when I was nearly dozing off. My colleague hadn't shown up yet, so I couldn't just leave. During the wait, an idea hit me. The clients were sound asleep, so it should be fine to see what they looked like. I had a feeling the guy was Michael. I walked at a glacial pace, careful not to make a sound. Moments later, I was face to face with the man, and when I saw what he looked like, I staggered backward without thinking, and I clapped my hands to my mouth.

He looked up when I came in. The eyes moved from my face. One second. Less than one — a fraction of a second, a reflex, the involuntary trajectory of a gaze that traveled from my face and went briefly, completely without permission from any decision-making part of him, downward. The loose shirt, the shorts, the legs I hadn't thought about when I'd pulled the shorts on because it was Sunday morning and no one was supposed to be awake. The gaze came back up. All of this happened in less than a second. I registered it in approximately double that time, which meant there was a fraction of a moment — brief, specific, unmistakable — in which I had observed the observation before he'd had time to s

Meanwhile, his eyes remained on her. And kept remained on her. Maybe he had something more than obsession for her? As soon as the thought came, it was brushed off as lifelessness again marred his grey eyes.

Jealousy was completely stamped on her tone. I involuntarily rolled my eyes at her and she noticed me, shot me a questioning, who-the-hell-do-you-think-you-are glare, but she quickly changed it to the sweetest smile ever. If I wasn't smart enough like Justin, I would have bought that as the smile of an angel.

Ogali’. I pushed my glasses up my nose a bit then I sat down silently. ‘Psst!’, I heard from behind me. I didn’t turn of course. ‘Psst!’, I turned slightly and Beck Jameson was staring at me with his hazel eyes. I wasn’t scared of him like everyone else in school because minus the whole bad boy façade he is just a strangled little penguin to me.

He tenderly brought her hand to his mouth and gently kissed it. Pain seared through my body as my eyes lost focus. The faces of my family blurred until I could no longer see them. I tried to move my arms to rub my eyes, but I was unable to move. Panic set in as I began to struggle. Finally, opening my eyes, James Cooper’s face came into focus.

Ethan’s POV The movement was at the tree line where the street met the edge of the property’s back boundary, the specific quality of something that had positioned itself to observe without being observed and had miscalculated the distance required for that. I kept walking toward the car. Three decades of operating in environments where being watched was a constant variable had produced the ability to register observation without reacting to it in ways that communicated the registration. I moved with the unhurried quality of someone finishing an evening and going inside, and the movement at the tree line held its position because it believed itself unseen, and the believing was its undoing.

They had been circling each other for three weeks. I noticed it the way I noticed things that were happening at the edge of my attention rather than in the center of it, the way you noticed weather patterns developing at the horizon while your focus was on the terrain in front of you. Not intrusively. Not with the specific, interested attention that Aurora brought to Lily and Marcus's developing situation, which was considerably more direct and considerably less deniable as passive observation. Just a background awareness that something was in motion.

Amara stood by the grand window of Leonardo’s penthouse, watching the city lights blink like fallen stars scattered across the ground. Her reflection stared back at her, eyes wide and unfocused, replaying the scene from earlier over and over again. Leonardo’s words, his warning, his fierce protectiveness—it was all too much to process. She couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not now, not when she was so close to flipping the game on him. But every time he looked at her with that intense, unyielding gaze, her resolve threatened to crumble.

"Get lost!" Blood ran from her forehead as she fell to the floor. Sheldon drew a small knife and started cutting into the tattoo of her name on his wrist. Winnie screamed in terror. Sheldon stared at his bloodied wrist, letting out a pale, broken smile, then fixed a sharp, merciless gaze on the tattoo on Winnie's wrist.