Newborn Eyes Bloodshot Novels & Stories

Tears blurred my view as I wondered if my baby was truly okay just then the door opened revealing King Archer who rushed towards us in shock of seeing the baby's color. "Why is she blue!"

But what she saw in her arms made her heart race. “Jesus...” she murmured uncontrollably. “Her hair...” said another nurse, stepping forward. The newborn, still covered in blood and fluids, had thick hair, white as snow in the moonlight, shiny even when wet. The strands flowed down to her tiny shoulders, fine as silk. “I've never seen this...” said the older nurse, her voice somewhere between shock and adoration. And then, the baby stopped crying and opened her eyes. For a second, no one breathed.

I looked down at the little bundle who held so much power. Only just born, she had no idea what weight had been carved into her bones. What blood had been spilled to ensure she breathed. She was quiet again. Not weak—watching. Her eyes didn’t blink the way most newborns did. They tracked light. Fire. Me.

I thought I could see a hint of blue in one eye, but the other was obsidian in color. I remembered Rowan and Maeve's eyes looking like that once and how we marveled at the dramatic transformation their eyes took over the next few weeks. "Hello," I said softly to the baby in my arms. He stared up at me, opening his mouth just a little into what I was sure was the beginning of a smile. "I hope they're not identical. I'm already having a hard time telling those two apart." Maeve reached for the apple on the table next to the bed, rolling it in her hands. She looked slightly unnerved and had dark circles under her eyes.

The news that they were girls, not the sons my family had anticipated, had triggered a cascade of repercussions that I could no longer evade. As I entered the softly lit nursery, the sight of my newborn daughters brought forth a strange mix of emotions. There they lay, nestled in their pristine white cribs, tiny and fragile, their cherubic faces a blend of innocence and vulnerability. It was their eyes that arrested me most—their eyes, the shade of a tranquil ocean, mirroring my own. Those eyes, so pure, so unburdened by the complexities of the world they had been born into, stirred something profound within me.

After a few minutes, they heard sounds of cries. Ashar patted at Dylan's back. "Congratulations, buddy." The light turned green and the door opened. A female doctor came with a child. She placed the child in Dylans hands. Dylan looked at the child. It was a boy. His eyes were not black but red in shade. A True Blood. Dylan smiled when the newborn looked at his father with his beautiful eyes. "Where is my wi-" Dylan was about to ask for Alice but another doctor came with another child.

Newborns usually struggle to focus but she doesn’t. Then there's the issue of her eyes. She has unusual eyes. They're golden, bright, and intelligent when she looks away from me. As I watch her it's like she's tracking something I can’t see. For a moment I think she's looking at me or the canopy of leaves above me, but i can tell she isn't. She's looking at something else.

she gasped in shock, “what just happened?” Irene was also at shock at what happened, “his eyes, it just changed to blue.” To shock the women some more, the baby’s eyes turned red then, red as the mating mark on Aliyah’s neck that the color had returned now that Edward has renewed it. “Irene, are you seeing this?” Aliyah was afraid, how could her baby who is only five days old according to Irene be able to change his eye colors? Her heart was beating loudly in her chest and she wanted answers, however, Edward was not around and she wondered if he would even have answers for her.

Azrael came out of the bathroom in new clothes after his secretary dropped by and sat beside me. “He’s so lovely.” The nurse said and placed the baby in my hand. Niko was awake, his eyes unfocused and looking around. He was as pale as me, bald and tiny, but what caught my attention was the unusual colour of his eyes. “It’s red, his eyes. Is that normal?” I asked as I stared at the nurse. Azrael looked at the baby as well. “He’s an alpha.” “Children shouldn’t be able to present when they're born.” I whispered.

It hurt like a bitch, but if it made the baby happy, if it kept her quiet, whatever. She blinked up at me, sucking on her pacifier as I held her. Gazing into her innocent eyes never failed to hit me hard. What did kids—infants—think about? What did she think of me? Why did she want to be carried nonstop? What was so bad about sitting down? Did she see in color? I Googled about a baby's vision last night, curious, and I got hooked on the fact that at birth, as eyes developed, they made out black and white, high-contrast pictures best.