Honey Brown Eyes Novels & Stories

she was already gone and didn't find it in her heart to give me at least water to drink. I swallowed saliva to moisturize my dry throat staring down into the heterochromia eyes of my son. He had one brown and one purple. Those eyes were a rare combination. Where did the purple eyes come from? I weighed up. “Here, miss... I have water and some bread.” said a voice before a woman jerked into my view, in a sitting position. I found a lady staring at me. She looked to be in her mid-twenties. Brunette with sparkling hazel eyes. Her eyes were pretty as she was.

His eyes had a pool of honey flowing in them wildly taking her in its grift as she felt herself rolling in it. This was the first time she had seen his eyes from a distance that much closer. His eyes which always sent a terrific streak of pains, today she got a chance to peer into them ever since she got to know this person. She dived deep into them and tried to figure out the weapon, dangerous, harmful, or anything that could be proven as the thing that harms others. Unfortunately, and shockingly, she didn’t find any such thing but streams of honey, warmer, thicker, and magnetic. She found no end to their depth, and she kept on diving deep into it.

She sighed frustratedly. "Look, I don't know why you are doing this but let me tell you, I am not your wife. I am not Cali Ruth. I understand why you are saying this. It is because we look almost the same, right?" He just chuckled on hearing her while shaking his head a little. "See. Your wife had hazel eyes while mine are heterochromic." She said and he got lost in her unique pair of eyes. As he looked closely, he could see that her left eye was a beautiful shade of gunmetal blue and there were some swirls of hazel in it too but it was dominated by the grey-blue. While her right eye was hazel in color with some swirls of blue in it but dominated by the hazel. Her eyes were really unique.

They had to remove some doors due to the bullets . I didn't see Aaron since afternoon , They said he was working . I was curious what exactly he worked for or as , Ruth told me he ran clubs , But remembering how he pointed the gun at me at that old house I think they might just be some kind of drug dealers or something . ~&~

"Yes, I have. When you would come over, I'd sit on the couch and pretend to watch the television but really, I'd just stare at the way the light danced off you as you concentrated so hard on those damn bills." "Oh…" I whispered. "What else do you find this average?" he prompted. "My eyes." "Yes… brown you called them. They aren't, you know?" "They're not?" "No, your eyes are hazel. You may not see the green and gold in them, but I do. They turn this bright green when you get pissed or scared. Or they soften to gold when you're… let's say happy," He ended in a wink that told me what he really meant by that.

Despite Mary's beauty, everything in Mary is not like the standard of beauty that all women in Hillcester want. Mary's height is no more than 160 centimeters, her skin is brown, her body is a little plump, her eyes are brown and long black curls are the only ones she can be proud of, because, in addition to green eyes, jet brown eyes are also made into the list of rare colors in the city. Only a handful of people have it. Mary is one of them. Most people in Hillcester Town have light brown, or hazel, gray, also blue eyes. So, when a big tall girl who was chatting with her friends suddenly put a sentence that Mary never imagined she could hear in her current state, she spontaneously overreact

Here stood my source of joy and strength. His eyes, like two shimmering hazelnuts, gazed up at me with a deep, ancient wisdom. Their golden-brown rims and mossy green centers sparkled with a sense of wonder and curiosity. Flecks of brown, green, and gold danced across his eyes, glowing with a brightness that seemed to hold a secret truth. It always amazed me because neither his father nor I possessed such captivating hazel eyes. While his father’s eyes were a deep forest green, mine were pure obsidian with a hint of shimmer that his father often mistook for tears. Though Tristan inherited some features from me, like the shape of my face and lips, he bore little resemblance to his father, lea

“I would like for you to attend dinner with us.” Garrett cleared his throat, his mismatched eyes staring down at me. For a moment, I wondered if people thought the same thing when looking into my eyes. My eyes were an exact replica of Garrett’s. One eye was a light blue, lighter than the sea or sky. The other eye was a rich brown, hints of honey and gold thrown into the mix. The sight was hypnotizing, both eyes bright and unique in their own way.

Her eyes furrowing with a small frown, before glowing up again. Ally and I stood there awkwardly, as she seemed to be examining us, well me from head to toe. "Your eyes," she suddenly stated. “What?" Both Ally and I replied at the same time. We exchanged glances as she continued to speak. "What color are they?" She asked still with that intrigued look on her face. "Plain old brown," I replied with an obvious tone. I had seen my eyes a thousand times, and let me tell you, they were as normal and as plain as the rest of the higher population. There was nothing remotely fascinating about them.

Her eyes a deep honeyed shade that was rare amongst their kind. With a heavy heart, Loriann placed Willow's photos and the letter into the box next to her mother's. Before closing the lid, she pulled out the last picture she had of her daughter. Her face was open and happy such a rare sight in those days. In her arms, she held a baby with a thatch of thick red hair and bright yellow eyes. Behind her, a handsome man, his arms wrapped around both of them. His eyes an ordinary brown, stared out towards the camera.