From The Corner Of His Eye Novels & Stories

When I shifted I noticed that he was looking at me as if I was going to disappear, but I could only pick on it from the corner of my eye the moment I was looking directly at him as well as he directed his eyes away in the same moment. Well, let's see where this takes us.

when did this happen ? The corner of his mouth widened in mockery, as he slowly blinked his eyes as if he was waiting for my reaction, wanting to contemplate and focus on every movement that might spur me on! My lips trembled whispering as I focused on the picture: Tell me what this is!! Is it not clear?

Not… not seeing this. Then, just like that, he looked up. His eyes, even across the whole courtyard in the dim firelight, found mine. And the edge of his mouth, just the tiniest bit, moved. It wasn't a smile, not exactly. More like a tiny knowing tilt. Like he saw me seeing him.

The wrapper was crumpled, edges marked with his nail impressions. She looked down at it, then up at him. Gray-blue eyes. At the edge of her pupils, a faint ring of gold. The same as that time he'd seen her from a distance outside the arena. But up close, it was different. Up close, he could see the thin scar at the corner of her eye, bleached pale by the sun, invisible unless you looked closely. "Chocolate again." Her voice was flat. Not surprise. Not disdain. Just stating a fact.

something flickered at the corners on my eyes. Twisting my neck to the side my eyes I caught sight of a mini device, slightly beeping. I looked at it, perplexed. Another CCTV? Instinctively, I glanced at him, only to find his gaze already locked on me. Open and Direct. Sharp enough to make my breath snag. My eyes flustered as I turned away awkwardly. He never spoke yet it was as if he was passing a message or something. After I was done dusting the shelf I thought to leave.

What if… what if he woke up right now? I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t do it. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw something. Windows. Tucked away at the far edge of the chamber, heavy velvet curtains hung around it like shadows. My eyes followed the faint beam of moonlight pressing through the cracks. “Light...”

“Holy sh-!” An eye was looking back at him, not blinking.

Cornering whoever or whatever it is, I move so I can see what is going on. In the corner, there is a small child. Pale, skinny and maybe the age of 10 years old. What bothers me the most is the look in his eyes. He has death written all over him. All the way from his head to his toes and then I notice something red leaking down his chin.

A presence, subtle yet undeniable, tugged at my senses. I turned slightly to the side and caught sight of him. He was standing at the edge of the dance floor, his dark eyes scanning the room with a quiet intensity. His gaze was sweeping across the crowd, as though he was searching for something, or someone, should I say? But there was something in the way his eyes moved, something sharp, that caught mine. It was like a silent connection, an invisible thread pulling me toward him.

Now he was looking at me from the corner of his eye. "No, not when there's something I want." My eyes went to his crotch. "I'm picky too." With a last scorching look, I headed to the bathroom.