11. Your pretty blue eyes are just stained glass
The photo on his desk was something with which she had a tenuous relationship with. There was gratitude, jealousy, resentment, dejection, and love. Yuris's smiling face and even more widely so eyes were those she remembered, her beloved sister alive and teasing all through the simple results of exposed silver and nitrate upon a piece of paper. Even her mischievous nature shouted out, calling to her as she taunted the younger sibling with arms around a younger Alex's neck, perching on the vanship and bracing herself against him.
Her tentative smile faltered at the combination and merrily bright eyes. Yuris would never have been so cruel to have meant it as such but there was a bitter taint that she wrongly perceived, as if Yuris was demonstrating her eternal domain over the man they both fell so completely and suddenly for. She knew the impression incorrect, but still its teeth remained embedded into her flesh.
"She's not there." His voice came from the usual reclining and head-upon-hand position in the chair before the desk upon where the picture sat. "In this picture. There's nothing behind her eyes," he muffled into his hand, having drawn her attention.
She shook her head. "You're wrong," she said as his head rose ever-so-slightly at the contradiction. "Those are her eyes. She's there. She's always been. She would never leave you." She hadn't cared to glance behind as she walked to the exit of his cabin. And shutting the door with the hands behind her back, she immediately fell back against it to collect herself. Having faced away from him the entire time, she had not seen his head rise and eyes follow to track her.