Not in the Eyes

For whatever reason, it wasn't his eyes that entranced me, but his touch.

It was usually the eyes. The eyes always sucked me in, like a black hole about to swallow a solar system. The eyes that would convince me to do anything to believe anything. Men could not easily bed me, but they could easily tempt thoughts, provoke ideas. Men could easily get me to say anything. Their eyes, blinking or winking, or crinkling from laughter, would undo my trickiest knots; my mind theirs to swim. I might as well have been bedded for all I revealed. 

But his eyes were different. They were lovely eyes, but they were eyes I'd seen before. The same eyes that stare thoughtlessly at nothing; the same eyes that scrutinize the tiniest details. I was familiar with his eyes though with different sockets; different minds. His eyes did not stun me. 

I wouldn't let them stun me.

But his touch subdued me. 

He hadn't meant to touch me, I'm sure. I surely didn't put myself in the way to be touched. He'd only reached over the table and his shoulder rubbed against my own. Then a friend yelled, "Picture!" and he wound his arm around my shoulders, only for a moment, and was done. 

Had there been something between us something might've changed because I only knew his name. Though I forget it now. Like his eyes, his name was lovely but familiar. 

Yesterday's dawn. 

Another night he grabbed my arm to pull me out of the way of an oncoming vehicle. 

Another day he accidentally bumped into me walking too fast behind me.

Another day he and I tried to reach for the same glass of wine.

Another day he was yelling at the top of his lungs, announcing something-or-other for all our friends to hear. He swore confetti and streamers and lights and drinks and music and dance and steak and wind. I looked him in the eye and said, "Do you pinky swear all that will be there? Just like you say?"

With one hand he took my wrist; with his other hand he swore: "I keep my word."

He strengthened his words with action, but dulled the sharpness of his eyes. The eyes I had observed with much familiarity now shrunk with mystery. Eyes I could not discern, not as stunning as his touch.

"All right," I barely answered. I wished he'd let go of me. He pulled me  closer and said over my head to the others, "Anyone else dare challenge me?! I keep my word! I keep my word, I do!"

I pushed away from him, sure of his word. Sure of his touch and now his eyes. Swayed by too much of him- had there been anything between us anything might've changed- anything did change, a change I wasn't in control of.

--- ^^ well, this is super cheesy, obscure, and something to be messed with later.