Julia's Eyes

 Her Eyes

07/28/25

Collage & Short Story Created By: Drusilla U.

*Every Collage Has a Meaning Behind Each Image In It. Everything is Tied Together.

**

(Author's Note) A/N: 

Since I was little I was often told I have black pearls for eyes or “boba” eyes, black as night and round. I wrote this in 10 minutes on a 7 hour bus ride back to Gainesville. I thought – what do I want at this very moment? I wanted a hug, honestly. I wanted someone to see me for me, to want me. To look into my eyes and know all that was without me having to talk their ear off. Just to know and to hold me. I think everyone wishes for that. Silent compassion and knowing. So this is a short little comfort story to those of you who wish to be seen. Truly seen for who you are. Without having to talk to a person who looks away constantly and doesn’t seem to care one bit about who you are. “What did you say?” 

No, none of that.

Right now, you are Julia. Regardless of your gender, identity, or anything. You are seen, you are understood, and you are adored.

And to those of you with light-colored eyes, your eyes are just as beautiful if not more.

.

.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

.

.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, gazing tenderly into her wounded eyes.

There it was – wonder, vast and infinite. A universe lay behind those small dark orbs of hers. So much power and command in something so often overlooked, these deep dark eyes which Julia possesses. A world locked away from the sight of others. Untold stories, silent memories. So much of Julia, hidden in plain sight.

 How could anyone say dark eyes were plain? 

He couldn’t fathom such a thought, these eyes held the stars and every secret of his heart so closely and intricately. A web of emotions: clear and provocative yet merely a whisper.

Her eyes were spellcasting, your soul could get lost in them: a whirlwind of dreams and “what ifs” merely from a gaze into them. Dark, like black pearls. They were like jewels of the night sky. Priceless. Invaluable. Like a still sea reflecting only the moon, they held an elegant, distant grace. 

He felt as if he were a pirate and he had just come across his greatest treasure that he sailed a lifetime just to find. He adored Julia’s eyes. He was completely absorbed by their quiet vulnerability. They followed his gaze helplessly, clinging to each movement.

Locked eyes. A silent reading of the soul. A sacred moment, intimate and unspoken.

Red marks stretched from the corners of her eyes – proof of too many tears shed in a lifetime. It was unforgivable. And yet, he understood. He had those same marks. Maybe they were both crybabies. But him – he deserved every tear, every ache.

But Julia?

What had she done to deserve this kind of grief?

The marks looked like bruises. Permanent reminders of invisible wounds and the strength to survive them.

His soul ached.

How many nights had she spent alone, crying into her own arms for comfort? How many cold evenings had gone by without anyone to hold her?

And he hadn’t been there. 

Was there still time to replace her arms with his own?

Oh, my Julia...

His eyes filled with tears as he imagined all the pain she had endured in silence.

A quiet guilt bloomed inside him for not arriving sooner.

With the gentlest touch, he traced her eyelids with his fingertips, as if she were a sacred work of art. The second his fingers brushed her skin, her eyes fluttered closed. A soft, silent acceptance.

“Go ahead.”

He could’ve sworn he heard her say it.

But her lips remained still. Chapped. Unmoving. Broken. Dried blood painted her lips.

He studied her face intently. The veins beneath her lids like soft, branching lightning. The dark circles under her eyes like war paint. She was tired, yes. But she was a fighter. A survivor. Her eyes had told him everything without speaking a single word.

Julia was a warrior.

Julia was so fucking strong.

He pulled her into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around her small, stiff body. She didn’t move. She wasn’t used to to this… affection without condition. She had learned to think of love as a transaction, a favor returned later. Her heart raced just as her mind did.

Why was he holding her like this? So tightly?

Her throat tightened. Her heart thudded, heavy and strange. Foreign.

Why?

Why are you doing this?

I am nothing.

"Tell me," Julia whispered softly, still not returning the hug, "Why are you hugging me?"

It wasn’t really a question. It was a demand.

That was how Julia was after all, rough and clumsy around the edges but she was soft and heavenly once you build up a tolerance for her sharp tongue and blunt nature.