Novel & Cerita Lifeless Eyes Like A Doll's Eyes

Her soft and pink lips trembled as tears leaked out of her closed eyes. Her eyelashes were long and made her green eyes look breathtakingly beautiful. Now that her eyes were snapped closed, Andreas had the urge to see them again. Those were definitely the most gorgeous green color he had ever seen. It was weird, how he felt something for this little sacrificial lamb of his. She was just a child and yet she was evoking foreign emotions in him. He had never felt this way, before. As soon as he realized what he was here for, he gritted his teeth and pushed his gun against her set skin, brushing it and almost breaking it. He was quick to snap out of his thoughts.

Just like a wilting flower, her body swayed slowly while her hand held a broken shattered mirror in the bedroom and placed it right before her small and thin wrist. Anyone who would see such a delicate beauty would be afraid for her, her beautiful face was something that anyone would die just to have, but her eyes were soulless. Just like a porcelain doll with no emotions nor life. There was clearly nothing blocking it at all, but her eyes were always covered by layers of mist, blurring others’ vision. As if she was about to go blind and people would not be able to tell what she was thinking or feeling. Her eyes resembled the vast empty void that was feared by many. At one glance, it was as

I close my eyes shut and open them. Dora's eyes filled with tears, she slowly kneels in the middle of the road, there was still a little black stain on the ground from the accident, she uses her shaky hands to touch it "I don't want to believe you're the one who's gone". I walk close to her and place my hands on her shoulder "soon everything will be revealed" my eyes suddenly caught something, it was an old man with a homeless look, sited in a small wooden caravan, selling some very cheap fake jewellery.

"She's still a Princess, and you have to respect her even if you hate her, because you serve her now!" She made a disgusted sound. "Not like the bitch can hear me anyways," Gods help me. "I wouldn't say that, Emilia," I spoke, before opening my eyes. "If none of you want me to... Do what I do... I suggest that you don't look me in the eye!" Then opened them, trying to get used to the light of the room. The doctor came closer. "Don't worry, kid, I came prepared. I'm using dark glasses. Now look at me, let me see your eyes," he held my chin and I looked up.

Her disappointment was palpable, and her eyes welled up with unshed tears. Nora's heart sank as she pleaded with the handsome stranger to reconsider giving her the Princess Belle doll. Her voice trembled with desperation as she explained that it was her daughter's only birthday wish. She even went so far as to offer him money for it, hoping that would change his mind. However, the man's response was not what she had anticipated.

I guess being uncomfortable in your own house is nothing compared to being capable of garnering a huge amount of money to sustain you and your family. Elle owns a pair of prussian blue eyes. Everyone talks about it on the internet. Especially those who had the chance to meet Elle for the very first time. They're too amazed to believe that her eyes are real and not lenses. She's like a doll that I used to play with when I was a child.

The multicolored light shone through the window onto her body, shining on her like a lifeless doll. There wasn't even an expression on her face.

odd. There was a certain glaze of sadness, a far-away kind of stare in her eyes that somehow reminded Alastor of prisoners of war from historical documentaries he used to watch with Alistair when they were in junior high. His mate looked like she was... haunted. Was it because she is a goddess of the underworld?

Blood bubbles out of the corner of his mouth as he sputters out his dying breaths. Suddenly, his eyes glaze over—but it is not the glaze of death . . . no, this is something . . . different. Trust me, I’ve seen the ‘glaze of death’ enough times to be able to recognize it. There is still consciousness in his eyes—probably more consciousness than there had been moments before—but now there’s something of a distant, crazed glint to his glare. More intent, more focused. If I believed in Voodoo magic, the combination of this horrifying glare and his bloody visage would make me think he’d turned into a zombie.

Her smile would brighten up any day. Yet, today, it halted. Smiles ceased to happen, or if they did, they looked so dead. There wasn't any shine in her eyes when she glared. It was like a plastic doll, eyes in a daze, distant. It was as if she was getting lost in herself in seconds.