His were brown and hers were a perfect black colour. But they seemed to fuse into a common shade when they used to look at each other. Their story started with one sudden deep look into each other's oceanic eyes. I wonder how perfect would the world be with no mouth moving and only eyes expressing the beauty of a true heart overwhelmed with heavenly feelings. That was the perfection which they projected whenever there was a silent meet in a calm, mysterious night which in their case was often. He'd be waiting
for her outside and there she'd come down the stairs wishing there were none constructed. Then they'd go to some place nice which allowed them the best setting to do that one thing they loved, staring at each other. Carrying much more feelings and deep emotions than the literal meaning of the word. They found amazement and awe-inspiring views in the universe of each other's eyes. They talked through eyes. Felt through eyes. Loved through eyes. Romanced through eyes. No one else could understand its language but they. They could keep looking into those mirrors for the minimum time span of forever. If their mouths lied then their eyes disagreed making the falsity visible. If their lips smiled then their eyes expressed the real happiness not limiting its extension to the length of the curve on face. They used to write a story through the speech of their eyes and that was a story that only they could understand. The story of their eyes. Those eyes.
Story