Golbez and obsession; eyes that he can't forget. Slashy overtones.
Perhaps that was why I wore the mask.
He longed for flight, the feeling of wind, soaring on nonexistent wings. On wings of the soul and mind he flew, rising to the clouds, even when they weren't there. A momentary illusion of freedom, soaring among the clouds.
Why can't I get him out of my head? Out of all the dozens that I....
He fought at first. I still remember the screams of anguish that filled the dungeons that night. But he broke in the end. All of them break in the end.
But some fragment of him remained free, as hard as I had to try to destroy it. He resisted, more than once coming to the verge of breaking loose from my control.
In the end- after I took him again and imprisoned him and punished him for daring to resist and run away and fight me- his hope gave out. His grey eyes shone with tears that could not (were not allowed to) be shed. Why do I remember his eyes so well? Why? They were grey like a storm, something wild and untamed and uncontrollable and unpredictable. Grey is an uniquely Human eye color- Lunarians do not share that particular hue.
Is that why I see those eyes every time I try to go to sleep? Those grey eyes, full of fear and resentment? Or is it something else? Something more?
Those grey eyes, full of adoration and longing for the girl. His best friend's fiancÃ©e, the love of his heart. Such simple emotions are easily twisted to their darker siblings, envy and lust.
But he still fought, fought the promise of what he believed was the only thing he ever wanted. And for all he did as I did what I was commanded to do, he blamed only one person.
Is that why I can't forget those bottomless grey eyes? Because I don't understand? He was forced, used. A simple tool for evil. Just an extension for another's will. Yet he acted as if he had somehow condoned the act by allowing it to happen.
And his eyes, his grey eyes.... They showed how afraid and ashamed he was of the monster he believed himself to be. And I let him believe, because he didn't fight quite as hard when he was in that mood.
I remember them all too well, those eyes. They trapped me as much as I trapped their owner, and I find myself unable to forget. I can still feel them boring into my soul, even though their keeper has to be long dead by now. I am trapped by those eyes.
Those grey eyes.
Those beautiful, terrible, unforgettable grey eyes.