Character death and reflection
“I have looked into your eyes with my eyes. I have put my heart near your heart.” –Pope Alexander XXIII
Eyes were unique. Eyes reflected everything the bearer didn’t want to have seen, eyes perceived things that were dangerous and oh so friendly.
Eyes gazed longingly, lovingly, desperately at lovers.
Eyes filled with tears, physical manifestation of sadness, happiness, anger.
Eyes danced with happiness. Eyes reflected intelligence. Eyes revealed stupidity. Eyes displayed confusion.
His eyes were unique. His eyes were rare, full of life and vibrancy and beauty. His eyes were blue in a village of predominantly dark colored eyes. His eyes reflected every emotion he never learned to hide. His eyes told me everything he was never brave enough to say.
His eyes were blue, sometimes they were red. But most of the time they were a mix of both. Never purple, because the two colors would never mix. His pupils, slit like the fox that resided within him, were surrounded in a fiery coating of red. His eyes though, the rest of them, the iris, the greatest majority of color was a blue that rivaled clear, sunny days. His eyes were fair and beautiful.
And I remember them because they were the last thing I saw.
He smiled at me, his eyes showing me the pain in his eyes. He smiled at me, kissed me, made love to me, his eyes never closing. He stared at me, showing me the attention and rapt detail that I needed to see in his eyes. He drank in my features, he memorized my appearance with his unusual, unique eyes that I would gaze into a beautiful, pure soul with.
And then he closed them forever. He took his eyes from me. He closed his eyes and breathed his last, his eyes never opening again.
And my own eyes poured tears. Tears that would never stop. No matter what I did, no matter what I thought, or believed or wanted to think. His eyes were gone, I would never stare into his strange eyes again, I would never feel him in me, his eyes drinking my face in, his body moving with me.
His eyes were lost to me.
“It’s all in the eyes.”
He told me once the liked my eyes. He liked to look me in the eyes, liked to see the inky blackness that my irises were colored, when I wasn’t angered enough to have the crimson Sharingan spinning. He liked the way they told him things I would never say.
And I allowed them to be that way. I never wanted to face another day without him. He brought me joy, joy that none others would ever know. He looked me in the eyes and I got to see the full range of emotion in his handsome face and eyes.
I saw his anger.
I saw his passion.
I saw his lust.
I saw his fears.
I saw his love.
I saw his dedication.
He gave me everything with those blue and red eyes. He gave me life and he gave me hope. He gave me love and he taught me to be better than I was. Taught me to be confident and faithful. He taught me to let myself show in my eyes.
He gave me everything.
His blue eyes that were red around the pupils. Those passionate eyes with his many fierce gazes. His eyes that would fill with love and remind me who I belonged to.
Embedded in a tan face, his eyes accented by the blond brilliance of his hair, his eyes were immortal.
And now all I want is to close my own eyes forever. I want to find his eyes once more. I want to remember what it feels like to have his powerful, perfect gaze set upon me.
Naruto…
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