Real Crying Eyes Novels & Stories

He managed to splash the water onto his face without making a mess, but his eyes felt like they were stinging. When he lifted his head slightly, he could see how puffy and red his green eyes were. They also seem to look sort of neon because of the number of tears shed. Whenever he cries this much, his eyes turn into a brighter shade of green then it already was. He went to touch the skin right below his left eye using the first three fingers on his left hand. It felt tight and rigid. He sniffed back any stray tears that were trying to come out, turned off the faucet, and left the bathroom with a heavy feeling tugging at his heartstrings.

My knees were scraped and bleeding beneath the expensive ivory coat. “Great, just great,” I muttered, limping toward the door. “You better not leave a scar.” I followed him into the silent mansion. Then tears started getting to my eyes. “No.. This is nothing compared to the past” I will not cry.

With all my might, I tried to open my eyes and adjust my vision to the surrounding light. Vaguely in a state of vision that was still not completely clear, I saw he was already conscious and was stroking my face. My heart jumped with joy. “Finally, you’ve come to your senses. Are you feeling better?” I opened my eyes wide and looked at him carefully. However, I suddenly felt sad, like being sliced by a knife. I covered my face with my palms, trying to hide the tears that were running down my face. I have tried to hold back the tears, but the tears keep flowing down my face like a waterfall and make my eyes swollen. The longer I hold it, the more tears will come out.

I pull my knees tight against my chest, letting my head fall against them as I sob uncontrollably. I sit there in the shower crying until the water turns cold. I stand up and turn the water off, taking a deep breath before stepping out of the shower. I glance at myself in the mirror. Red, swollen eyes. Splotchy, puffy cheeks and I don't even feel a tiny bit better.

Her entire frame convulsed with quiet, exhausted sobs that looked like they hurt to breathe through. My heart clenched. I closed the door softly behind me, and at the sound, her head lifted. Her eyes were swollen, red, and glassy. Her face was blotched from crying, her lashes clumped with tears that refused to dry. When she looked at me, it was like she was searching for something…anything…that might convince her the pain wasn’t permanent. Her lips trembled. Pink. Wet. Glistening from where she had bitten them back again and again to keep herself from breaking louder.

I woke up with my eyes red and puffy from crying. I sighed as I flinged the blue duvet over my body and got out of bed. The wooden floor felt cold against my bare feet as I sauntered to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and I could no longer recognize myself. My green eyes looked lifeless with dark bags underneath them from crying to much. My cheeks were hallowed like I have not eaten for days but they appeared there from the stress I've been passing through lately.

I was too ecstatic; I had been knocked sideways by that feeling so hard that before I noticed, suddenly, tears were flowing from my eyes like a cascade. Up she lifted her eyes to me, the large, brown orbs shining with concern, and she stretched up, small hands touching my face, wiping away the tears from it like a gentle magic. "Daddy," she softly murmured, the salve for fried nerves. "Why are you crying?" she asked, worry-laden.

Like always, there was a gentleness in his eyes, but what caught me off guard was the sadness in his mesmerizing brown eyes, seemingly mirrored my grief. Seeing my immense pain through the orbs of his eyes, every brick I lay to form a wall around me shuttered into small pieces, completely diminishing the wall between us. My heart trembled, and the tears I’d been withholding for so long welled up in the corner of my eyes, threatening to fall any minute now. Shaking, I raised my hands upon realizing that I was about to cry and hurriedly rubbed my eyes dry, not caring that it started to get hurt or that it turned red.

Lilith scolded, gently. “Right.” Returning to the search bar, I refined my parameters. I typed in crying babies. These results were much harder to look at. But this was just what I needed. I took in each sad face and every shed tear. A few minutes later, I returned to standing. Closing my eyes, I imagined a baby, face contorted in fear and pain, with tears streaming down its face. When I opened my eyes, there it was. My breath left me like I’d been punched.

I dropped the bags on the floor and plopped down on the bed before I gave way to the tears I thought had long dried. *** I don't know how long I've been inside, crying my eyes out like a baby. My eyes were red and puffy like that of a person with conjunctivitis. I looked hideous with the red rims around my eyes. I strode into the bathroom where I washed my face and rubbed oil under my eyes, to hide the puffiness. However, I know nothing can cover it. I decided to wash the oil off when I noticed it did nothing to help me. Instead, it made the red rims more prominent.