8th Drink:: Eyes

“If you could see the world through my eyes, you’d understand the scars I wear.”

Her voice is dead with a cold bite that reaches high up into her smoky blue eyes. At her sides her fingers curl up to slip into the folds of her palm because she’s trying not to let them shake. Constant fear stains her blood stream but like hell would she ever allow him to know.

Shadows dance behind his oblivious back and still he shakes his head with a soft smile gracing his lips. Her veins are stinging and he can’t understand why her breathing is labored yet still the terror sweeping through her eyes is real enough to tell him to be concerned.

“Show me then,” he whispered, holding her shoulders steady in large, warm hands.

Deep breaths dig razors down her throat but she let herself nod and reached up to her face. Gracefully scooping her sight away, he held out his hands for her to drop the cursed eyes into and she walked away blind with a sad smile on her face.

The morning news said he’d lost his mind and cut through his wrists to the bone, adding a hole straight through his gut just for good measure.

“I knew you wouldn’t be strong enough,” she whispered to the crisp morning air. “I’m so sorry.”