The Silence In Her Eyes Novels & Stories

My heart thuds once. Then twice. There’s something in her eyes—something I’ve never seen before. Not love. Not longing. Not even hatred. Just pure, cold clarity. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Her silence screams. And for the first time… I’m the one who feels small.

The emotions that once roiled within her eyes had receded, leaving behind a void. "Angel," I murmured, my voice a gentle whisper that hung heavy in the air. "Allow me to witness your emotions unfiltered — your tears, your anger, your blows upon me, even your screams. But I can no longer bear to confront the hollowness residing in those vacant eyes." In response, she maintained her silence, an unbroken gaze that eventually gave way to the closing of her eyelids. With a resigned sigh, I braced myself and awaited the tranquil rhythm of her breathing, an auditory assurance that all remained intact within her.

her voice cracked, her chest heaving, “...then what the hell are you doing with me?” The silence that followed was deafening. I wanted to say something. Anything. But the war inside me was merciless. Logic clawed one way, pride dragged the other. And so I said nothing. Her tears glistened in the dim light as she shook her head slowly. “That silence,” she whispered, broken. “It tells me everything.”

Admission would give her a weapon to shatter their united front and Elira’s credibility. His face became an impassive mask. He let the silence stretch, using it to rebuild his defenses. He gave her nothing—no anger, no confirmation, no fear. He simply looked at her, his eyes flat and distant, as if she spoke a language he didn't understand. His silence unnerved her. It made her reckless.

She had turned to give orders and slowly, his vision blurred till there was nothing as he closed his eyes. He opened it, his eyes a dark red. He raised one hand to the air and closed it slowly, balling his fist. Suddenly, there was nothing. No orders, no steel, no noise, just silence. The pack was silent and even her voice wasn’t audible. Her hands went to her back, her feet tightly coming together. She couldn’t move. Her lips were shut, with nothing visible holding her. He was looking at her, who was struggling to move.

She was begging for her life. And he gave her none. When silence finally came, it wasn’t mercy. It was the cruelest blow of all. Silence meant she couldn’t fight anymore. Silence meant she couldn’t breathe. Silence meant her eyes—the ones that had always found me in the dark—would never open again.

Whoosh… A shower of soot and brick dust rained down from the fireplace, sounding as loud as thunder in the silent room. Sophie gripped my arm in terror. Mom let out a stifled scream. "Get down!" I hissed, using all my strength to keep my voice low. "Close your eyes! Pretend to be asleep! Now!" Dad's face was white as a sheet. He shut his eyes, his hand gripping the shotgun, the barrel aimed at the fireplace. I cracked one eye open just a sliver, watching the fireplace. I saw it. A long, thin, pale thing extended from the chimney.

“Not yet. But I needed to say it out loud. Because if I’m right about what’s coming, then silence is no longer protection.” I looked at her then, really looked. Past the cool detachment she wore like armor. Past the fear she never let herself voice. There was a question in her eyes. Not “Did you know?” Not even “Will you stop them?” Just a quiet, aching dare. Are you still one of them? I didn’t answer. Not with words. But my silence wasn’t the kind she could take as indifference. She stayed anyway.

Her eyes went up to the window to see the city light brighten up the night and she found herself get mesmerized by the sight for a moment. "Why won't you say something?" she spoke as her eyes went back down to Zayn "What do you mean?" "Your silence is killing me and you know that, is this your way of punishing me?" Zayn's brows folded up in confusion with his eyes still on his phone while he responded casually "I don't know what you're talking about." "Come on, are you really going to play silent forever? Your silence makes me feel even worse than when you actually talk back at me."

Silvester quickly scanned the room, searching for Eryx. She found him curled up in a corner, knees pulled close to his chest, his face contorted with grief as tears streamed down his cheeks. He looked vulnerable and broken. Without hesitation, she rushed to him and enveloped him in a tight embrace, holding him close as he sobbed inconsolably. Mr. Silvester stood by silently, his heart aching at the sight of his son in such distress. Words failed him in the face of Eryx's evident pain. The shards of broken glass had cut into Eryx's skin, causing him to bleed.