Strike Eyes Novels & Stories

Probably my own feet. “Holy shit are you okay?” I hear as I feel my face heat and turn a deep red, I feel something lift me to my feet and open my eyes to bright sky blue ones staring into my soul. Fuck he is actually beautiful. Now I am this close I can see everything, all his tiny perfect imperfections. He has a chicken pox scar about his left eyebrow and a small crook in his nose as if it’s been broken but long healed. His perfect blue eyes are like a bright summer’s day and his lips. I cannot stop staring at his plump perfect lips. I’m still watching as they move into a smirk.

Megra I stare at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognising the woman staring back. My right eye is swollen shut, a hideous purple-black hue spreading around it. The pain is relentless, throbbing with every heartbeat. I dab makeup over the bruised skin, but the dark discoloration is impossible to fully cover. Each touch is a reminder of Conor's latest outburst—a fresh wave of anger and hatred rising within me.

Ezra, choosing silence over words, listened intently, realizing she had no answers to the myriad of questions Scarlet presented. A sudden pause hung in the air, and Scarlet's gaze shifted from the plate to Ezra. "I am getting old," she confessed, her eyes distant. "I want you to come back and live with us. I don't want to hurt you, but you can't leave us like that." Scarlet's plea hung in the air, the vulnerability in her eyes revealing a loneliness that had settled in over the years.

I have to close my eyes until they adjust. After turning off the persistent alarm on my phone inside my purse, I head to the bathroom. The horrible image that the mirror returns fills me with surprise, it's the first time in my life I've seen such a mark on my body! My right eye is completely black, its interior very red; my lips are so swollen I can barely speak; two blue spots are marked on each side of my face. Tears start flowing again while I feel like the most despised and wretched woman in the world.

I refused to break eye contact as I pulled my club from my bag. It was studying me with pale, clouded-over green eyes before its attention jerked to the left again... mine momentarily shooting up the hill to where we rolled from. The zombie and I made eye contact again as it jerked and snapped at me like a cornered dog, mangled and destroyed...

A searing wave of gold standard light burned right through my sealed eyelids, radiating from some unseen point in the room. The sheer intensity forced my eyes to flutter open, only to be struck by a blinding glare that left my vision swimming in static. Instinct took over. I slammed my right forearm across my face, shielding my eyes behind the crude barrier of my own flesh and bone while waiting for the sharp sting to fade.

Lifting my gaze, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look like hell. My lips are cracked and dry. Dark circles smudge beneath my bloodshot eyes. My cheeks are flushed, but not from warmth. And then I see them. Hickeys. Or more like scars—ugly reminders of this night. His touch was rough. His rage bled through his fingers. His brown eyes burned with hate. I grip the sink, inhaling sharply. The water is ice-cold as I splash it onto my face, trying to scrub away the memories. But it’s useless.

You have the eyes of a killer. ⚘ little ⊹ lies ··································································································································

I take it from his hands in an instant . "Your iris is red , you know . It looks beautiful" Jace stares at my eyes looking mesmerized. Alec and Michael nod in agreement . "Your sclera is also blood shot red . It looks like you haven't slept in days " Michael adds on. I chuckle , good to see he's still mocking me to uplift my mood as always . All of them stare at me strangely . "What ?" I ask . "They're completely out now" They murmur .

My back hits the wall and suddenly Kieran is there, with one hand braced beside my head and his body caging me in. The heat from his skin burns through his clothes. His face is inches from mine, close enough that I can see the flecks of ice in his eyes. Wait. Ice? I blink hard, certain I'm imagining things. But when I look again, those flecks are still there, actual crystalline formations floating in his irises like frozen shards suspended in dark water. They pulse with their own cold light, beautiful and terrifying at once. That's not possible. Eyes don't do that. Human eyes don't...