She could look into his eyes for a million moons.
His kind eyes.
The ones that have sunsets behind them when he looked into the dipping sun.
His vibrant eyes.
The ones that light up the night and any given day.
His bright eyes.
The ones that got really wide when he spoke about his day.
His loving eyes.
The ones that would roll back when she'd say she didnt like how she looked.
His passionate eyes.
The ones that awed her writings.
For his eyes gradually grew cold and all he could feel was bitterness. His reassuring eyes.
Were the ones that helped her through.
But she was no longer precious.
In.
His.
Eyes.