A/N: Should I be online at this time? ... No. But I found this and had to put it up. I'm attempting to scrub the mold and dust from my writing skills once more. Enjoy (hopefully) and please R/R.
People always talk about the assassin's stare. They talk about how you can tell a killer from his eyes, from the cold flat stare. You look in the mirror and you think your eyes look just as they always did. (It's the muscles around the eyes that give you away.)
Nothing changes, when you kill. Your eyes don't turn into inorganic material; they don't shrivel up with your soul; they don't become walls around your inner defense. They're exactly as they were before the kill. (It's the muscles around your eyes that change – they tense up, permanently frozen in that squint-eyed expression you used to peer down the scope of the rifle a second before your target's chest exploded into red-pink-white gory mist.)
They say your eyes are emotionless. You admit you might be less expressive overall after the kill, but you have other things to concern you now that you're an assassin. Emotions are far down on your list of things to contemplate, and it's much easier to just shove them all to the side then try and sort through the good and the bad. (It's the emotions that tip people off; you can't show any even when you're trying, because the muscles around your eyes are too bunched-tight in that squinty-eyed stare you were using Before that never goes away.)
They say eyes are the windows to the soul. If so, the windows are pretty smudged and dirty. (It's the drapes around the window that really tell people who you are.)