Why He Purple Novels & Stories

Well, that could only happen if he accepts me. “Hello, “ I grinned and bent to his level. Our eyes were leveled up and something about his eye color caught my attention. I knew his eyes were heterochromia but what I didn't see from afar was the light purple color. It was only obvious in a close range. I was stunned because only royals carried the purple tint or eyes. My dad has a purple shade in his eyes just like me and His father had it. His father's father also had it. It was a gene that had been carried through generations. Hence, it seen as a royal family thing. So you just imagine how surprised I am to see Calvin’s eyes up close.

The air turned frigid as the sense of darkness made him clutch Ava's T-shirt behind him tighter. And then out walked a man who was neither vampire, witch, or wolf, though he looked like he could pass for any of those. He was tall, more built than Diego, and his skin was as pale as Andrei's. But it was the eyes that made him step back. They were purple.

I mean, I don’t really recognize him from anywhere. The guy is short, like everybody else. He has the same pale skin that is almost iridescent looking. His hair is black. But that isn’t what stands out the most to me. It’s his eyes. His eyes are purple. The exact same shade as mine. This guy could be my twin if it wasn’t for the fact that his ears come to a point. “Do I know you?” I ask. Is this guy my long lost brother? He could be. I mean… we look so much alike.

For shame. Pull it together, woman. Christian’s brown eyes locked on mine behind those sexy-ass frames. Then they drifted—slowly, appreciatively—down to my neckline and back up again. I’d dyed the ends of my hair purple for the party and wore a plum-colored dress to match. He slid his fingers into my hair and gave it a gentle tug, leaning in to whisper near my ear. “Purple, huh?” I cleared my throat. “Yup.” “You told me red meant anger. What does purple stand for?”

He clearly chose to light up in purple flames now to get our attention, he has is and will try to milk this a bask in it for as long as possible. He stands slowly, his shackles tugging on his arms since he is so much taller than me and they have him in my shackles. His eyes are closed like he is in thought while he does this. WHen he is fully upright his eyes open, looking straight at me and they are blazing the same color purple as the rest of his body. He opens his mouth but when he talks the voice that comes out is definitely not his voice.

However, the liquid inside was a totally different color, more of a purple like the sand had been. "What is this?" I questioned him suspiciously. "It's just water, little fyre," he told me patiently. "Why is it purple?" I asked, taking a cautious sip of it to find out he was telling the truth. "All of the water here is purple," he informed me. I looked at him in surprise, remembering the bathwater. I guess it wasn't the oils that had changed the color. I took a few more sips of the water, not wanting to admit that he was right, and it was making me feel more human. I thought back to the lake and its deep purple hue of the sand, now realizing it was probably caused by the water. I remember th

“Her Majesty shouldn't have blood-red irises yet. She should have gotten it when she had eaten humans. But why does she have it now? This is not possible. Has the change ceremony failed since the beginning?” "GO!" growled Pine. The priest's body shook, he then nodded, then paid his last respects before slipping away. "I hope all is well."

He asked emphasising particularly on the word 'knife'. I could see the right side corner of his mouth curved up into a smirk I understood what he was trying to do. "Why don't you just use the one you carry around?' I replied back with a smirk too. Take that weirdo! He looked at me intensely for a brief minute before bending a little ahead and then said in mere whisper "Because it's not for cutting butter" Okay.. Fear crawled in my nerves. Why do I feel this conversation is actually going in a completely different tangent now?

I almost fell backwards, air punching out of my lungs, but a hand shot out instantly and caught my waist, steadying me. “Woah, be careful there,” a voice said, light and playful. I looked up. He had striking purple hair — real, impossible purple — and a boyish grin tugging at his mouth like he was always two seconds away from trouble. His eyes danced over me with lazy amusement, like he’d never seen someone so distracting or so lost in thought. I still felt his hand on me and I swallowed, clearing my throat quietly before saying, “You can let go now… thank you.”

“No. Purple was never a natural eye colour.” The silence grew thick, and Zen fidgeted under the scrutiny of the cyborg. Why was he studying Zen so intensely? Slightly unnerved, Zen thought about what he could do. Then, he remembered how Damian did not reply with his food request. “How about I make you something while we talk? I know we have not met before, but I’m a rather good cook!” Instead of answering immediately, Damian chose to study Zen a little more. He did not look fifteen, and that behaviour reeked of someone who had never known the true darkness of the underworld.