From The Corner Of His Eye Novels & Stories

I crave the comfort of my head on my pillow even if it’s morning. “Because for some reason, you can’t seem to get your eyes off me.” A brow raises and he gives me a side eye. I notice the ends of his lips curl into a smirk. Cocky much? He didn’t even turn to look at me so how did he know I was staring at him?

I love our new room. Then out of the corner of my eye I see him in the tree line, looking directly at me, with that smirk.

He couldn’t wait to see her reaction. Then his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, noticing a white truck trailing behind him. He squinted slightly, watching it for a second longer, his expression was unreadable. But he didn’t slow down or react. This wasn’t new to him.

Not the other way around. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye and I jerked in surprise when he cupped my cheek. Looking at him I realised his swirling golden gaze was focused on me and he wasn’t paying any attention to his meeting anymore, which in the next second he switched off his laptop in the middle of someone speaking.

he said Out of the corner of my eye, his face came into view - those storm-colored eyes shining, tension holding his jaw firm, a twitch pulsing under the surface. “Then we’re both doomed,” I whispered. A single cry cut through the night air. Not loud, yet sharp enough to freeze breath. It hung there, unfinished. No echo came back. Just silence swallowing what was left. A shape shifted near the entrance, just past our backs. Tall. Silent. Watching. A single gust touched it, just then darkness came. The light gave a tiny shake before vanishing completely.

I noticed something shift in the corner of my eyes and I jerked, turning sharply. "Jesus fucking christ." A small figure stood just beyond the light, blonde hair catching the glow from the living room.

Same corner Electra had taken. He has barely completed the turn when he spots it, spots her. Fright and bile rises to his throat at the sight.

I groan, hinting an irritation. On the corner of my eyes, I saw how his brows raised and the corner of his lips lifted. There is a gleam of amusement spread on his eyes as if he find my remark funny and ridiculous. I mentally rolled my eyes because of that and just silently walk upstairs while he is on my side, holding my waist to support my every move.

I'm not sure he can even see the small change I have noticed myself. The pain of standing this vulnerable and naked in front of him has my tears welling over, and I can't stop them. Averting my eyes, I look to the side instead and want nothing else but to pick up the towel again, but I'm glued to my spot. Just waiting it out, whatever he is up to. The slowest seconds go by while I'm only focusing on breathing, trying to block out what's happening, but I'm not able to when I hear him move and look at him in the corner of my eye.

He swept his eyes across the room once, taking a slow, comprehensive inventory. And then his gaze reached me. It held for less than two seconds. Maybe less than one. But it held. And in that fraction of a moment I watched recognition cross his face — that brief, specific flicker of someone who has been watching for something and has just found it — before it was replaced by something else. Something cooler. More deliberate. One eyebrow lifted. Just slightly. Just enough. The corner of his mouth moved. Not a smile. Not quite. Something harder than that, and more specific: a challenge.