Looking Up Through Eyelashes Novels & Stories

Her eyebrows shot up with surprise, her eyes slightly wider as she gasped. “Elias, what’s going on? Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?” Her innocent smile remained on her face; it could fool anyone, but that look in her eyes, that heavy, deep-seated anger that I clearly saw in the way her eyes glinted, struck me straight in the heart.

Or maybe her lips were just more sensitive now. She didn’t close her eyes. She could see that his eyelashes were only two centimeters away from hers. Each eyelash was clearly visible—black, slightly curved, with tips that glowed faintly in the warm light. The patterns on his irises became even more distinct at this distance: dark gray lines stretching across the blue background, like ice fragments floating on water stirred by the wind.

Pity me. When my eyelids are fully opened, I move my eyes and blink deliberately trying to clear my vision. It’s blurry but, I can see a corridor and a couple of doors. I shut my eyes harshly and then, I open it again. A little by a little, my vision is clearing. I let out a long breath. A gas comes out from my mouth.