angry eyes - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
These angry eyes are my shield and sword, they are the gathering of clouds for a rainfall you'll never witness. Maybe one day I'll let you see that torrent, the release that feels like a downfall. But first I'd have to let you in and I've been too haunted too open up. Just believe me when I say that it's a sign of pain long-held rather than because you forgot to make the bed or pick up the groceries. Sometimes I'm frozen inside, that's all.
When he turned at last to face me there was no trace of tears, not in his eyes or in track marks on his reddening face. His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. In that moment I knew he was already far away. Once more I was the enemy. These swings from most loved to most hated would be the end of me. His states had no greyscale, only the polar extremes existed. I drew in a deep breath, the burning hard stare would last only as long as it took him to think of the most brutally cutting thing he could tear me down with. And after that I could kiss anything breakable goodbye. Which right now might just be my nose, it was so hard to tell and so pointless to run.
The laughter evaporated from his eyes. His customary warmth gone faster than summer rain on the tarmac. Indeed even his focus was somewhere on the tree behind me, as if I had become invisible to him or he could not bare to see me at all. I'd crossed some invisible line, offended his sensibilities. I'd seen him do this to others before, but I'd thought our bond immune. Now my blood drained and heart hammered erratically. I was never afraid of his anger when it came as fire, for that burnt hot and fast. I was deathly afraid of his ice. It coated him like protective permafrost, it had saved him from the torments of his youth, but now the same method could isolate him from his new family, his friends. It was pointless to try to reach him now, my well meant words would bounce off as good as hard rain. But I would have to see him tomorrow, thaw his anger, return that loving spark to his eyes.
I watched as the whites in his eyes turned a pure black, and as his iris glowered teal. Symbols, lines and dots formed in the iris, placed in a sort of manner. Circular Gallifreyan, they told me. His lethal stare felt painful and piercing, as if his glare was tearing my heart apart with a blinding teal light. I looked at the blood on my hands-it was of that girl I just killed. I looked up at him again, this time, with widened eyes. This man knew her. A final glance at his furious eyes confirmed my possible outcome. He was going to kill me.
Angry eyes were just the start, then came the strut, the slamming and the clipped words. Petal would turn, all of a smoulder, but her attractiveness was gone. Instead she was the image of her stern aunt, the one who raised her on the fancy side of town in a home Tommy couldn't afford. Between the perfect stripes of eyeliner the blue eyes he'd fallen for were no more than dirty ice.
Hayden had never seen River look that way, his eyes had a deadness, a stillness. The boy who laughed often, the one who was everyone's friend had developed a hardness. It was as if Hayden could read everything River blamed in for in one extended glare and forgiveness wasn't an option anymore. Perhaps if he'd saved her, got to her faster things would have been different between them...
When at last Troy turned, Autumn wished he had kept his trance on the ocean. Deliberation was over. He had judged her already and in his eyes she saw only cool hatred. He'd had that same look when he cut Sam out of his life, like if someone offered him a loaded gun and a "get out of jail free card" he'd have no problem pulling the trigger.
With one look the verdict was told. George had been reflecting longer than usual, past the point at which he always came back with an apology. Kat's face fell as George locked his eyes on hers. They were the ones he reserved for the prisoners he guarded, a hateful distain. But it was more than that. There was a tenseness he wasn't even trying to mask. She backed away, nothing about this was making sense, not his curling fists or the anger that radiated from his skin.
Todd's wide open eyes reflected everything and saw nothing. Behind them was something more intense than normal thought and his clenched two-day-stubble jaw wasn't a good sign. Finn had been hoping for, perhaps not outright forgiveness, but the beginnings of a tentative reconciliation. Now he simply hoped to get out of the meeting without giving Todd a reason to hate him all the more.
When someone looks at you like that, eyes holding total anger, it hurts; but when that someone holds your heart in their hand it kills. Even if you deserve it, sometimes especially if you do, the loss is a fine pair of concrete boots and your own soul is a cold river.
His eyes were a knife in my ribs, the sharp point digging deeper. Where there had been love was an emptiness, but not in any vulnerable sense. Uncomfortable with the void, he had filled it with an emotion he was more at ease with - raw anger. The unmoving gaze was accompanied by deliberate slow breathing, like he was fighting something back and loosing.
Her eyes flashed with indignance and anger, much like lightning on a pitch black night. He couldn't recognize her anymore, the girl he used to know was gone, and it was all because of him.
The way her eyes squinted when she glared at him reminded him of a pit viper's slit-like pupils. He gulped nervously. A burning animosity was developing in her amber orbs, and he could tell he was likely the root cause of the problem.