With Eyes Like His
SS by Jennifer

Britney’s POV

I could never really find a particular color to describe his eyes.                                                                                                                                                                                         

No matter how many times I lay there, in bed, studying him, I still can’t, even to this day.

They’re so perfect, those eyes.

He has the most beautiful, big, dreamy eyes.

They’re the kind of eyes you could look in all day and forget what you were doing right away.

Forget what your name was, where you were, all you could think about was him.

He had these ocean-colored eyes when he looked at me, and long, dark brown lashes.

The first time he told me he loved me; I distinctly remember looking him straight in the eye, to make sure he really meant it.

At that very moment, I knew he was being honest.

When I stared at his eyes I felt so safe, so loved.

They were clear baby blue, the kind a child would color the sky in a coloring book with.

When he would joke and laugh with me, he relaxed and I could tell he was perfectly comfortable.

His eyes were a light pale blue, with little streaks of a darker shade of baby blue.

I had always thought it was the most fascinating color ever.

When he was touching me, and I looked into his eyes, I could see his lust for me.

How much he loved and wanted me.

He was anticipating my lips meeting his.

His eyes were a dark blue, and little flicks of the candlelight would reflect off them, making it as though they were sparkling of something.

He always gave me this look that made a shiver go up my spine and I almost melted.

Before he’d hit the stage, he would feel a bit nervous, yet excited.

His eyes would be a bright, bright blue, it reminded of a big pool of water.

He was always on stage, seeing his fans cheer and sing along.

His eyes would shine, and he’d have the biggest grin on his face.

I remember when he waited at the airport for me for hours and Johnny told him afterwards that I was sick in the hospital.

He took the first flight over to me, panic stricken.

His eyes were a navy blue, a bit brown even.

We all had to convince him I’d be fine, but he still was still fussing over me.

He was very concerned and followed every move I made that day, just to make sure I was okay.  

When he’s depressed and sad, his eyes shimmer with tears and seem almost empty.

It gets me really upset when he looks at me with those eyes.

It’s like he’s a lost cute little puppy and you want to hold him and make all of his hurt go away.

His eyes are the color of a sky after a big storm, even a bit foggy, more gray than blue.

When I close my eyes now, all I can see is his cold blue glare now.

I think he hates me.

He’s never, ever looked at me that way before.

Those warm eyes no longer gazed lovingly at me.

When I cried and told him it was all a mistake, that I really did love him, more than life itself and begged him not to leave me, he showed no sympathy.

He really didn’t care about me anymore.

He told me to get out of his sight, and that he never wanted to speak with me again.

His eyes were stone hard, and the color of ice.

He called me million names and screamed at me.

He loved me, and I betrayed him.

He trusted me and I went behind his back and had the nerve to do something like this.

No matter how much I cried and comforted him, he’d push me away.

Walking towards the door, he opened it and told me again to leave.

I stared deeply into his eyes again; this wasn’t the Justin I knew.

His eyes were different now, even worse than his angry icy glare, he looked hurt.

I hurt the man I loved more than anything on this world.

I was speechless and stared hopelessly at my hands.

I left, and cried myself to sleep that night, with his face, and those eyes flashing in my mind and haunting my dreams.

How am I supposed to forget the way he looked at me, with eyes like his.