The page was blank, save the blue lines running horizontally across it.

"Give me a word," he said, playing with the fountain pen in his hand. He spun it repetitively, seemingly unconscious of the movement.

"Huh? Like what?" she asked, turning around to face his desk.

"To describe," he replied, looking down at the blank page. His lips pursed; he was obviously dissatisfied with his progress.

"Describe what?" She pulled herself closer to the wooden table that he was working on.

"Blue eyes."

"Hmm, I suppose light, aqua, serene... those would be good words," she said triumphantly, shooting him a wide smile.

"Not, not like that." He frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. "No, not like that at all..."

"Oh, really? Like what then?" She placed her arm on his desk, her pen in hand.

"Dark blue," his definite voice replied.

"Deep, pensive, thoughtful..." Her eyes sparkled as she let the pen float against his paper.

Her words were met with his silence. He continued to twirl his pen idly as he watched the entrancing lines and swirls of blue fill the paper's margins.

Then his gaze lingered on her eyes for a moment. "What do you call... pulling you in?" he whispered to her gently.

"Oh! I get it!" she exclaimed. Her eyes lit up once more.

He sighed softly. She wouldn't understand.

"Entrancing or enchanting," she said, beaming her perfect smile. "So, what gorgeous color does the great writer have in his mind?"

He pointed at a passerby. "Like the color of his shirt... no, wait... it's more like... the color of a deep pastel... not like an electric blue, but not royal or navy either..."

"I don't know, I still like deep and pensive- it sounds so romantic... just a thought." She shrugged, brushing a few strands of loose hair away from her eyes.

His gaze once more flickered to those eyes of hers.

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink. "I guess I just don't know how to describe them... I'm really sorry I couldn't help." A small, contemplative frown fell on her face.

He looked at her thoughtfully for a second and scrawled something on his paper.

"Her eyes are an indescribable blue- modest yet pensive and enchanting... they're so beautiful- they smile at me, but yet, I never feel as if they're smiling for me... I wish one day they would sparkle for me," she said quietly, reading the fresh ideas, the flowing rhythm, which he'd just written.

"That's ... so beautiful," she whispered, looking up at him.

All she could see were his two hopeful hazel eyes looking into her "indescribable" blue ones.

She finally understood.