It was like a night sky, those eyes. They were a fascinating black, like an ink stain. Not a dark brown, but a very deep grey like the dead of the night. Once you gaze inside, however, there were flashes of light there.
Hidden desires.
That was my first thought as I looked into his eyes.
We were mere kids then, twelve and thirteen. Mischievous, bored kids. Making chaos at a party. And by chaos, I didn't mean pouring drinks to a lady's dress, or setting a wild dog loose inside the venue. By chaos, I mean revealing a scandal or two through the big screen of the ballroom. The drinks were pouring over some people's heads, yes, but not directly by my hand.
It was fun, a little laugh for my boring little perfect world.
As I laughed at the couples tearing at each other and people who tried to separate them from the second-floor railing, I saw him. Staring at me from the other direction--eyes like midnight, cold and deep.
