Cyberwulf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
madra_liath) wrote2015-05-23 12:46 am
madra_liath) wrote2015-05-23 12:46 am
Entry tags:
Beholder
Summary: Phoenix finds Godot's eyes... unsettling. Written for the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme.
***
They looked normal.
Mostly.
Deep brown eyes surmounted by dark eyebrows, usually half-lidded in a lazy expression to complement the perpetual smirk on his lips. They weren't bloodshot, or silvered over with cataracts. The pupils were normal - neither blown nor pinprick.
There was just something...slightly off about them. About Godot's stare. It always seemed to be through him, never at him. The pupils seemed to be slightly too far apart, as if both eyeballs were constantly on the point of rolling in different directions. Perfectly normal eyes that couldn't focus; couldn't see a thing.
It would be easier if they were cloudy, or red, or huge and black, the pupils stuck impossibly wide. For some reason, he wouldn't have found that so unsettling. He tried to ignore the little voice that whispered they're the same eyes the Chief looked into, when they made love and do you know how disrespectful this is and he's a grieving wreck, what's your excuse?
"Problem, Trite?"
"N-no." He ducked his head and pressed his nose against Godot's neck, breathing in the scent of coffee and sweat. He didn't have to look. After all, Godot would never know.
***
They looked normal.
Mostly.
Deep brown eyes surmounted by dark eyebrows, usually half-lidded in a lazy expression to complement the perpetual smirk on his lips. They weren't bloodshot, or silvered over with cataracts. The pupils were normal - neither blown nor pinprick.
There was just something...slightly off about them. About Godot's stare. It always seemed to be through him, never at him. The pupils seemed to be slightly too far apart, as if both eyeballs were constantly on the point of rolling in different directions. Perfectly normal eyes that couldn't focus; couldn't see a thing.
It would be easier if they were cloudy, or red, or huge and black, the pupils stuck impossibly wide. For some reason, he wouldn't have found that so unsettling. He tried to ignore the little voice that whispered they're the same eyes the Chief looked into, when they made love and do you know how disrespectful this is and he's a grieving wreck, what's your excuse?
"Problem, Trite?"
"N-no." He ducked his head and pressed his nose against Godot's neck, breathing in the scent of coffee and sweat. He didn't have to look. After all, Godot would never know.