Through His Eyes Novels & Stories

I see his eyes become normal again and he looks at me with a concerned look on his face. "Trust your gifts when you need them, don't be afraid of what you don't understand. The gift will help you" he says and I have a lot of questions I want to ask him. At the same time, I dread what he would say. From the way, his eyes glanced over I know he can see some of the future just like Emma's eyes do sometimes. That he can see other people's gifts are obvious. Taking my hand from his while I keep eye contact with him.

He looks ruthless as he truly is, his grey eyes show no emotion except pain. The warm water was still dripping down his hair when he placed his index and thumbs in his eyes and remove the lens that had been covering his perfect blue eyes. He smiled in contentment as he kept staring at his renowned reflection. At times, he feels he turn into an unbearable monster whenever he had to cover his meek blue eyes with the grey lens. With the towel tied around his waist, he walked to his bed to look at Alita. Recently, he discovered he enjoys looking at her especially when she takes her baths and when she sleeps. He couldn't keep his eyes off his phone each time he gets less busy.

Her soft and pink lips trembled as tears leaked out of her closed eyes. Her eyelashes were long and made her green eyes look breathtakingly beautiful. Now that her eyes were snapped closed, Andreas had the urge to see them again. Those were definitely the most gorgeous green color he had ever seen. It was weird, how he felt something for this little sacrificial lamb of his. She was just a child and yet she was evoking foreign emotions in him. He had never felt this way, before. As soon as he realized what he was here for, he gritted his teeth and pushed his gun against her set skin, brushing it and almost breaking it. He was quick to snap out of his thoughts.

Phoebe’s POV “You’re wrong” He mumbles so softly that I almost don’t hear him. I turn my head to study his face which was now, unfortunately, devoid of emotions. “I don’t understand,” I say. He looks up and locks his eyes with mine and I see the pain behind those gorgeous orbs. A myriad of emotions was splayed across his eyes. From sorrow to regret, from regret to remorse, from remorse to relief, all of them lasting for a few seconds only to settle with relief.

But in the end, he still wrapped an arm around the drunken Angela and helped her into the car. Amid the rain, the black Maybach slowly disappeared from my line of sight. After it drove off, a familiar voice rang out beside me. "Was it worth it, doing all that for him?" I smiled and said, "There's no such thing as worth it or not. Life is long. If something's bad for you, you just throw it away." "I heard you've got a brand-new original design draft in the making." I turned and met those bright, sparkling eyes. I teased, "Did you plant some kind of surveillance device on me, Mr. Rivers?"

Those eyes. When he entered me, the way he’d whispered “good girl” when I obeyed. My thighs pressed together. I kept drawing. His hands — large, scarred, gentle when they wanted to be, brutal when they needed to be. I drew the way he looked when he came inside me — head thrown back, throat working, eyes locked on mine like I was the only thing in the world. The page is filled. I stared at it. It was him. Exactly him.

His eyes were filled with joy and anticipation. My eyes sharpened. Great. There was something to take away from him urgently.

Having Trevor in my mind, his are the only eyes upon me. I can do this.

He pulls his fingers out and leaves me begging for more. He don’t leave me waiting for long, when I look in his eyes they are pitch black telling me is wolf is on the surface. He readies himself by my entrance and asks if I’m ready but I’m not sure I am, so I nod slowly and my nerves are evident. Has he licks my neck and holds my hands above my head, the tip of his cock enters me slowing but deep, I’m not sure why he feels bigger but I’m not sure I can take him in fully. He pulls out slightly before pushing in deeper, then repeats until he is thrusting fully inside me and I feel like it’s in my chest.

Now thinner, carved by grief, lined with painfully deep creases around the eyes. Hair that had once been jet black now streaked with white, the silver of a decade’s worth of suffering. The face of a man who had walked through hell and returned. ‘His eyes… gods, his eyes have never changed.’ Under the dim light, the man finally opened his eyes fully. Amber eyes, exactly the same as Rayden’s.