His Eyes

A story of betrayal.

I can remember days where I would study him. Day after day I would hope he would choose me. Want to be with me. He made everything seem so simple then.

I was the unnoticed, the one he'd never breathe a word to, the one he barely acknowledged- The one nobody gave a second glance to. 

And then he did.

I would love to say I had expected this, but I didn't. Every day, he would sneak a few seconds to look me in the eyes, his green magical ones peering back at my lifeless ones. They swirled with a speckle of silver, and the rest a green haze-like hurricane. And as I observed these eyes, he would look away.

Now each day he would gaze a little longer, and I would gaze right on back. Then I took a leap, and I spoke to him, during one of our long sessions of gazes. 

"I love you," I said. Three simple words that I would long love, regret, and reminisce. 

He only smiled, a quick response to such a thing. I had been brash- dramatic- rushed the feelings. And yet, he never thought of this once. 

He reached out, taking my hand in his. Oh, how I yearned for the feeling of his skin on mine. Now, I could relish the feeling. His skin was ever so soft, ever so warm. So much feeling ran through my bones in that moment and I dreamed he couldn't tell.  

My cheeks betrayed me, however, and his grin became wider. The white bones that protruded from gums were perfectly straight, and the breath he breathed wasn't foul. 

That day we went everywhere, he showed me the little things I'd yet to observe. And at the end of the night, he embraced me in a kiss. The sensation was stellar, and I was certain nothing could be more perfect. Nothing. 

This went on for weeks, and I lived in a perfect world, here with him- who could never make a mistake- lacking any imperfections. 

But soon, the perfect world started to become grey...I wish I had seen it coming. 

Our kisses became less sweet, our embraces less kind. He had a hunger I did not yet crave.  An animalistic hunger, that I was yet to bear. 

At the end of one of our days, I expected a kiss. The perfect sweet one, we had shared only a month ago. To live in the sweet "I love you." that'd been born in the perfect world. 

Instead, his once sweet tender hands began to become mangled as they crawled all over, his grin, was one of malice and his perfect teeth once white had yellowed, breath that was once sweet, was now foul. 

I had been blind, his perfections a facade. A facade I was willing to accept. And as I lay in shame there, he gave me one last gaze and I saw those eyes, the eyes I had come to love. 

Green, with silver speckles, in a wonderful hurricane that swept up my soul, and licked up my pride. 

His eyes were a power I was fearful of beholding now, and as he left, he took my spirit with them.