Your Pretty Eyes
When I was a child, I always associated the color blue with my mother's eyes. She had the most beautiful dark blue eyes; like sapphires. When I saw them, filled with the compassion that only a mother can give, I knew that everything would be alright; it was the most comforting feeling. My father used to say that my mother's eyes were the color of the ocean on a warm midsummer's day, and just as deep. At the time, I had never seen the ocean. My parents preferred that I stay at home considering our political situation. Still, whenever I came across the sea in my reading or studies, the deep blue of my mother's eyes always came to mind. Later, when I saw the ocean for the first time, I would see how very honestly my father had spoken. When I was fifteen, my parents were killed by assassins in a war that my own family had created. At first, I couldn't believe it, but as the knowledge sunk in, I realized something: I would never again see my mother's beautiful blue eyes.
I fell onto the strange blonde boy I had encountered, my pistol firmly pressed into his body. His eyes stared into mine, determined and defiant, with the slightest hint of panic. The boy's eyes were blue; a striking blue the color of the summer sky. He pressed my pistol harder to himself, his own hand locked over mine, and a strange feeling filled me suddenly. This boy, he was no older than me, and yet he was willingly putting himself in danger. Why? To protect his comrades, to protect his ship. All I had done up till' now was run from danger, doing all that I could to save myself. Hell, I had killed a man to save my own selfish life, and yet this boy, this amazing boy had done what I could never do. I released the pistol, and the strange boy relaxed, his compelling blue eyes closing for the slightest moment in relief.
After a while aboard the marvelous ship, Leviathan, I came to trust the striking blue eyes of the boy, Dylan Sharp. To me, he was inspiring; a brave young airman with a peculiar and daring swagger, a good soul, an ally. I finally understood the feeling that had filled my being the night that I had met Dylan. It was longing. If I could have chosen to be any person in the world, I would have chosen to be, not a ruler, but Dylan. I would have done anything to understand that unwavering resolve in his eyes.
Dylan's eyes, even when relaxed, were bright, strong, and bursting with life. Above all, they were kind; you could see just by looking into Dylan's eyes that he had no true enemies. They reminded me of my mother's eyes; good-natured almost to a fault. Then came the night when I revealed my true identity to Dylan, and it was then, as he comforted me, that I truly understood the extent of his kindness. He was good, the kindest boy I had ever met…and he was my best friend.
I was shocked. There had to be a mistake. It simply couldn't be true that Dylan was a girl. Deryn Sharp. The name haunted me. Even more so, when she answered to it. Dyl—no, Deryn's eyes, those pieces of impossibly blue sky, widened with horror as she realized my disappointment. She had betrayed me, my trust in her; I had told her every secret, revealed every part of my deepest soul to this girl. Meanwhile, Deryn had concealed her very gender from me. I understood what sort of danger the knowledge of her secret might have placed Deryn in, but still…..this wasn't the soldier I thought I had known. This wasn't bravery. Deryn's eyes hardened with anger; blue ice piercing my soul as she punched me…..hard. Her eyes, they had always seemed so honest.
I felt dizzy; weak. Deryn held me atop the ship, her face above me set against a dark and stormy sky. It was then that I finally accepted the fact that those beautiful eyes above me belonged to a girl. And I finally understood the different feeling that had been growing within me throughout our time together. "However, if it is true that 'love is blind', why do I see everything so clearly now?" I mused in that moment. That may perhaps have been the most clarifying moment of my life. Unless, of course, you exclude the next moment…..when Deryn Sharp, the strongest, toughest person I had ever met…..kissed me, her pretty eyes, like jewels fallen from the sky, closing ever so gently. Deryn and her pretty eyes kept me alive that night.
As I struggled to prevent the Tesla cannon from firing, I abruptly recognized the fact that as I did so, it was not the world that I thought of saving, nor even the Leviathan. It was a blonde girl with lovely blue eyes; she was all that I hoped to salvage from that moment. The love that I believed I felt for her; it had to be real. Who else could make me feel that way? Only Deryn; it was always Deryn.
It was a few years later when Deryn and I lay together under the stars. "That cluster over there looks a little like a whale." I said pointing, out the aforementioned stars. "Hmm", she said, staring at the group I had pointed out. "Looks more like a hydrogen breather to me." She said finally. I laughed and turned to look at her. Deryn's blue eyes glowed in the silver light of the moon, and I was ready at last to ask her. I moved my hand to hers, holding it gently. "Deryn, will you marry me? Please tell me yes." She smiled. Her eyes stared back into mine, so blue and wide; the colors of the summer sky, the colors of my world.
A few years after that I was gazing into the face of my firstborn daughter. A familiar pair of dark blue eyes the color of the ocean on a midsummer's day stared back at me. I smiled, turning to my wife, Deryn. "She's beautiful. And she has such pretty eyes… just like you."
Hi, everyone. This is my second story, and frankly it sucks. I was sort of out of it when I wrote it, so...sorry. I'll probably try to edit it later. Anyways, I was inspired to write this by the song Pretty Eyes by Alex Goot. :) Thanks for reading this so far. bye bye.