He had the most beautiful eyes, blue, but not really blue; green, but not really green. And gold specks near the centre that were visible only if you looked closely. His eyes would fill with joy at the sight of his family, friends and lover. They’d soften at the mention of anything he loved, they’d harden if threatened. They’d shine with love, darken with desire, glaze with lust. They’d crinkle at the corners when he’d smile that wonderful smile. ¬†They’d fill with tears, whenever he reminisced about days long gone.

But she was forgetting. Forgetting and she needed to write it all down, because she didn’t want to forget, she couldn’t. It’d been weeks, months since she’d last seen them, since they’d been closed and she missed him. She missed his beautiful eyes.


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