Slate outer rings with teal all the way to the black, those blue eyes fixed me in all the best ways.
In his blue eyes a golden caramel radiated from each pupil as if it were a bright new sun.
One glance of those blue eyes told of a lifetime of struggle that had never been put into words.
If you have ever seen blue fire perhaps you have an idea of how passion transforms blue eyes.
His eyes were the blue-green of the mountain lakes, hues that could tell tales of sky and evergreen giants all the same.
The emotion in her eyes was fathoms deep, yet they carried the warmth and life of the sunlit surface. They had a thousand hues of blue and a small touch of hazel radiating in softly swooping arcs.
Her eyes were fire in water, if you can imagine such a thing. They were passion in ice. So even on our first meeting I knew, she'd be a friend for life, never dominating nor submitting, but a companion who walks freely alongside. And that she was and more. There were days she looked at me with such love and playfulness those blue eyes became butterfly wings, hers and mine.
His eyes were a perfect spring sky, his mind clear and his smile warmer than the gentle sun.
Through the open door came the most expressive eyes, expelling the last of the night's sleepiness from our minds. They were the colour of a clear blue sky through a broken prison wall; the colour of a perfect raindrop on a blue aster; the colour of a river hurrying to join the great ocean.
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