Henry Cavill Eyes Novels & Stories

Top gun was a good choice, I mean who didn’t have a crush on Tom Cruise, the guy was hot but then again, I had had enough of guns and gore in my life so that was a hard pass. What about the Witcher? I mean Henry Cavill was hot, so fucking hot I would be lying if I said I didn’t have sex dreams about him when I was seventeen. But sadly, Henry Cavill or in this case the character he played, ‘Geralt of Rivia’ looked a lot like Kade. A striking resemblance, some would say. They had the same scowl, the same handsome sculptured face, golden brownish eyes kinda like a cat’s. The only thing they differed in was the white hair.

From the tension I can see barely hidden around his mouth, I can tell that either Derrick or Hunter is not happy about the lunch invitation and a part of me wants to turn Henry down because of it, but I know I can’t avoid Henry forever. Releasing a steadying breath of air, I return my attention to where Henry stands expressionless to my right, his focus completely on me. My eyes widen in surprise when I notice that his usual bright blue eyes appear to be a darker, almost black color as he watches me intently before they flash back to the familiar blue I am used to seeing.

His blue eyes flecked with gray never left my face even once and even from afar, I could make sense of the dark aura that swirled around him. Who was he? Sharp jaw-line, dark wavy hair—graying at the temples—that looked slightly tousled, and a perfectly sculpted face— the kind of striking handsomeness that instantly brought Henry Cavill to mind. I tilted my head to the side, swaying to the rhythm of the music. It wouldn’t hurt to flirt with him tonight plus, we didn’t have to meet each other again. Strutting towards him with my eyes locked in his, I couldn’t help but notice that there was this spark of dark hunger in his eyes for me.

Slowly, I turned. And there he was. Kavian stood just a breath away, quiet and unmoving, like he had stepped out of the dream and into reality. The crowd noise faded into the background. The world fell quiet around us. I opened my mouth, the words stumbling out before I could stop them. “Your eyes…” He finished for me, his voice low and deep. “I know. They change.” Now both of his eyes shimmered with a rich hazel-green glow—vivid and unnatural, yet mesmerizing.

“Miss Rivers, are your hands really that restless? “It was a perfectly good piece, and you picked it until it looks this scratched up.” I drew my neck in slightly, not daring to turn around to look at him, and could only stare at the full-length mirror in front of me. Henry’s reflection lowered his head slightly, his brows sharp and austere. The mask covered the lower half of his face, leaving only a pair of pitch-black eyes exposed. Those eyes were locked firmly on my waist, shadowed emotions churning beneath their surface.

He was mumbling, his body convulsing in a way that made a sudden, unwanted panic flare in my chest. "Cillian?" I ran to his side, dropping to my knees. As if in a trance, he forced his eyes open. When they met mine, my heart skipped a beat. Those eyes... they weren't cold. They weren't the calculating glass shards I had grown to hate. They were soft, hazy, and filled with a raw, agonizing tenderness. "Valerie... is that you?" he whispered. "What's wrong with you?" I asked, leaning in closer, my hands hovering over his bruised shoulders.

His eyes were poisonous and seemed to glower, prompting Helen to feel her spirit leave her body. Time remained still as she returned the man's gaze. She grasped the use of the light provided by her car to inspect the man's face while avoiding his deadly eyes. He had brown crew-cut hair that was meticulously kept, and it had a rippling quality, a symptom of his poor health. The intriguing young man's eyes were almond-shaped, and they burned with deadly passion. His once-dark eyes were flecked, and they abruptly changed from dark sapphire to their original sapphire mariner-blue hue. It darted around and around, gleaming with horror and the vigor of youth.

For a second, the longest second of Bellatrix's life, all he did was stare at her. His eyes mapped out her face, spotting the difference, the maturity that has now bloomed. Her full lips, coated in the beautiful shade of red, her eyes, under the moonlight, looked blue, but in reality, Cillian knew they were grey. He had seen them several times, stared at her pictures in the last 1,800 days, burned them into the back of his brain.

“Didn’t think I would see the day where I would sit on your lap and gaze upon your face. Smiling and happy. I missed you so much, Harry.” There was an ache in his expression despite him keeping a wide smile. He nodded and kiss her forehead. Letting his warm lips lingers on her forehead. His body was so warm and with little droplets on his skin, it made him super irresistible. Harry was kinda a hairy man. With chest hair that runs down to his navel, he was her wet dream coming true. It made him look even manlier. Though he held the face of her favorite supermodel, he held the body of her favorite superhero. Even so, Henry Cavil has nothing over Harrison Walton.