I like his eyes.
It sounds so cliché, but eyes are like windows into a person's soul.
That girl over there? Her eyes are dark brown abysses. Black holes that suck you in, but then they begin to strangle you. Their lengthy fingers curling around your very being until goose bumps begin appearing on your arms. She’s afraid that her windows will break, so she breaks others instead.
There's a different boy over there with icy pools for eyes. I imagine if I ever see the ocean that laps at the icy shores at the North Pole that is what it would look like. He looks innocent on the outside, but as soon as you begin to reach out you'll freeze. You'll become like him, cold. He left his windows open too long, now everything is cold and the furnace can’t bring the heat back.
Maybe consider her eyes. They're not brown, not blue, not green, not any color really. They're empty. She's locked herself away, hiding. She is not brave; she's scared of this world. But maybe she's the smart one. She has her windows locked and the curtains pulled tightly shut.
Then maybe consider that girl. Her eyes are bright green, just like an April morning. She's always happy, and you feel happy around her, but does she realize the hatred, the cruelty, which is in this world? She's shut out the bad things, she ignores them. Her windows are beautiful stained glass. They’re pretty when you look at them, but they shield her from everything that happens beyond them.
But his eyes are different. They're grey, not a cold grey, though. It's like the color of the smells pebbles you find in the bottom of a river. They're so grey they almost have a blue shimmer. Like he put himself in a locked chest and through away the key, but what he truly is is trying to peek through. I look into his eyes and I feel content. There is hurt here, but it will pass. The boy himself? Well, it looks like the curtains are pulled over his windows, but the breeze is trying to let the sun shine through.