A/N: I really, really need to get this out because I can't sleep! I typed away, not knowing where this story is heading. And thankfully, I ended it. My inspiration is a picture of a guy I saw on the net. He has fantastic eyes and I don't know his name (I think he's a model). Go figure. :D Anyway, enjoy reading and, as always, reviews and pm's are deeply appreciated. Thank you!

“Did you see their eyes?”

“Yeah. It’s so cool.”

“It really stands out because her hair is black and her skin is pale.”

“I want his eyes…”

Those were the common things Harper and I hear whenever we enter our classroom on the first day of school. Back in elementary, we really didn’t get it when the people we used to talk to would just stare at us with a blank expression on their face. We really never understood why they always praised our eyes. And when we attended high school, I finally understood. I realized that our eyes were intense and deep, with an icy shade of blue. My lashes that framed my eyes were thick. My eyes were my assets…and nothing more. Unlike Harper, his body has the build of the model with the right proportions. He was handsome and smart. He could be everything—a doctor, an engineer, a politician, too. But he wanted to be a model. He was getting there because of his looks and brains—and his eyes that constantly attracts the crowd.

~*

He was becoming famous. I’m happy for him because finally…he could reach his dreams.

His soft, mesmerizing blue eyes sunk into mine. It was like I was just staring at my own eyes.

“What is it, Harper?” I finally asked, breaking the silence.

He smiled at me, which made his deep and even dimples become more prominent.

“Nothing much, Zia.” He replied. “I just like to stare at you. That’s all.”

I just scoffed. It was a humid, April afternoon and we were hanging out at the park, trying to be far from the crowd. Harper and I are both seventeen years old, and for the past decade and a half with a bonus of two years, we developed a tight friendship. Maybe it has something to do with the color of our eyes, which are, amazingly, of the same shade—maybe it doesn’t.

“How long will we stay here?” I asked, staring up at the blue, cloudless sky. “I really hate to see your girl fans again.”

He chuckled softly. “Forever, if possible.” He answered. “As long as I’m with you.”

The grass tickled my back and the rays of the sun that was going through the branches of the tree made me squint my eyes a little.

“When will you return for your photo shoot?” I asked.

“Tonight.” He answered. He suddenly looked at me, smiling. “A boring afternoon, isn’t it?”

“Yup.”

He smiled wider. I looked at him, suddenly sitting up.

“No, Harper. I told you, didn’t I? I hate to see—”

Too late. He suddenly stood up, exposing his irresistible ambience to the crowd. I also stood up. One by one heads turned to look. The soft whispers came, followed by mad, girl fan shrieks.

“Oh, my God! It’s Harper! Harper!” One girl cried.

I glared at him but he just laughed, taking my hand.

“Isn’t this fun? We get to lose weight and advertise?”

“Shut up, Harper!” I shot back, as we broke off into a run. “Your fans suck!”

He just laughed in reply and then we focused on the road ahead. We turned in a corner, leading into an alley, and then we squeezed into a window with no glass. We were in a basement of a building.

“Wasn’t that fun?” Harper asked, smiling. Despite the darkness of this rotting building, his eyes still managed to glow, together with him.

“Laugh your head off.” I just mumbled, crossing my arms. I was breathing hard.

“Aw, Zia, don’t be mad.” He said coaxingly, reaching out to my shoulders.

“Too late.” I shot back.

He faced me and then he looked at me seriously. His blue eyes…captured me.

“I want to spend my last day here with you. So never find the time or reason to argue with me. I don’t want you to be mad at me. Not now, not ever. Got that?”

“Fine,” I replied, smiling, understanding him. “So, Harper, mind if we get out of this building?”

“I don’t mind at all.” He said. And with that, he helped me push myself out of the window. He effortlessly followed.

~*

“See you next time, Zia…” He said. He was standing in front of our gate, with his hood up.

“Yeah…” I mumbled with the same, sad tone. “See you…”

He smiled a little and then he turned around. I waved, trying to stop the burning sensation in my throat that was so hard to swallow. He stopped walking, and then he faced me again.

“You forgot something?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He replied. He ran towards me and then he locked me in his arms.

“I’ll see you again, all right?” He said. I could feel his breath on the nape of my neck. “Don’t you dare run off with some other guy ‘cause if you do, I’ll kill him.”

I just smiled at his threat.

“I won’t.” I assured him. “I’ll wait for you.”

He gave me a tight squeeze, and then he slowly let go.

“Bye.” He mouthed out.

“Bye.” I replied.

I watched his car zoom away. And there it was again—the heavy weight that anchored my heart down whenever he leaves town. I entered my room and then I smiled. It was like he loved me. It was like he reciprocated my hidden feelings for him…it was like heaven.