Drabble -- Their Eyes
Drabble -- Their Eyes
Their eyes were blue. His, an oddly honest clear blue, and hers, a deep velvety sapphire blue. Their eyes had an entire language of their own, one that could not be interpreted by anyone else.
In their language, a glance spoke volumes. Whether it was casual, knowing, or secretive, each little gaze held greater meaning, a special meaning to only the two of them.
It was different with a stare. When his eyes met hers, all their flaws were exposed and neither one could hide from the other. It was like they were naked under each other's stare. Every inch of their thoughts and feelings were let out between them, a symphony of lights, colors, and sounds for only them to hear, louder than words.
But with a glance, they could steal secret moments of the other's lives. Moments no other person should be allowed to see. These little insights into emotions and actions were the basis of their entire relationship. When he would glance across the foyer into her office and see her frown or rub her forehead, he would not delight in her discomfort as most believed he did. He wondered if she was getting enough sleep, enough to eat, enough care. He wondered what he did to cause her distress, and what he could do to alleviate it. When she would glance at him as she walked past his office, his brow furrowed and his hands twirling his cane, she often thought of his pain and her guilt. She thought about how many times he had overdosed, how many times she'd almost lost him.
With all the looks in between the glances and stares, they saw each other's tears, anger, frustration, laughs, smiles, and even the other's eventual downfall. Hers was her dedication. His was his cynicism. She was running herself into the ground, not taking care of herself and doing her best for her baby, the hospital. He saw the worst in everyone, even himself. Nobody matters, everybody lies. It turns out he was only lying to himself.
With each glance, look, and stare their eyes spoke and consumed more than their mouths ever could. They knew more about each other than anyone else. House knew Lisa and Cuddy knew Greg, when everyone else saw only House and Cuddy. But no impetus forced them to become closer. They were trapped in their own worlds, sometimes intertwined and other times so apart, they had to squint to get a clear picture of the other. It seemed that they were in their own private limbo, in between heaven and hell, alone and yet together. Without a force pushing them towards each other, they had to speak their hearts through their eyes.