His eyes were never the colour of the sea, but every time I looked into them I lost myself. Like drowning in his eyes wasn't enough. His smile captivated me into sinking further.
Those static eyes, no darkness could compare to them, but sweetness had no place there, despite his chocolate coloured orbs.
To the beholder, they almost always seemed cold. Like cut glass, with sharp edges, reflecting back his view of the world.
But to me, no amount of snow or ice could ever stop my heart from melting. His protective eyes were always capable of reading me like a book.
So light, so pure, so dark. Like the reflection of the sky, they changed with the weather.
In the mornings you could see mist forming in her beautiful orbs, but when she smiled her eyes shone with the brightness of life.
No longer were they bound by the simplicity of one colour but rather subjected to her rough emotions, a real window into her soul.
Grass had nothing on them. His emeralds shone under the bright sun and bloomed.
Every time I looked at them it was as if I was somewhere far away. Running through a familiar forest, home.
So dark, so deep. I could swim in them forever, but drowning will also do in that seemingly cold ocean. But they were never just that.
Always full of compassion and care they reflected the depth of his own feelings.
They reflect us in all our beauty and brokenness, answering complicated questions about feelings and showing who we really are. They are beautiful, even after crying.