Page 136 of Obsession

He smiled and shook his head. He wouldn’t allow me to poke him in the eye if he wasn’t wearing contacts, would he?

I bit my lip and focused on his right eye, rubbing it with the tip of my index finger before pulling at the skin under his eyes to open it wider. I probably should have washed my hands first. I was sweating because I was afraid of hurting him somehow. At least I didn’t have long nails, I’d broken them all on the platform. Harris was calm and even amused, his hands on my waist were helpful, but not really. Curiosity would really kill the cat.

I took a deep breath and touched his iris as gently as I could, pulling it down as something immediately moved under my finger and I saw a hint of color. As curious as I could be, I kept pulling until something stuck to my finger and an emerald looked back at me.

Surprise overcame me and left me speechless as Harris smiled and bent down to remove the other one. A completely different look lifted to me.

“Oh, my God,” I exhaled in amazement.

They were green.

Green like emeralds, and somewhere in my lungs my breath caught. I stared at him, unable to take my eyes off him, but now it was as if I was seeing him for the first time. The real him.

Harris smiled and winked at me, and it gave my heart a jolt.

“They’re so beautiful. Why the hell do you wear contacts?” I criticized.

“I don’t like them.”

I looked at him, perplexed. They were so beautiful that I wanted to kiss them. Beautiful and real. The tar was gone, the emeralds remained. He looked much more human this way, andalthough he was stunningly beautiful with black contact lenses, I liked him better this way.

“You really are obsessed with black, aren’t you?”

He grinned mischievously.

“Is that why you dyed your hair? Don’t tell me you’re actually blonde.”

He burst out laughing and I quickly held my palm in front of his mouth.

“Shh, I think my dad’s still at home.”

He stopped, but the giggles were still there.

“Okay, Miss Detective, I’m not blonde, but you’re right about my obsession with black.”

I rolled my eyes.

“So, what’s your real hair color?” I asked.

He didn’t have any body hair, so I could not figure it out for myself. Shit, he was probably even more hairless than me, and that was probably because of the tattoos.

He raised his finger and pointed at his eyebrows. I frowned in confusion, and then I realized he was answering my question. It was black, not as black as the color on his head, but still black.

“I like the deeper shades of black. If possible, I would wear Vanta black.”

I smiled, shook my head, and turned my gaze back to him. I was going to have a hard time not staring at them all the time from now on.

“Don’t wear the contact lenses anymore,” I said before I could think; I had no right to ask him to do that. “I mean…”

“Is that what you want?” He interrupted me just as I was about to apologize.

I nodded.

“Your eyes are even more beautiful like this.”

He smiled and slowly kissed my lips.

“Not nearly as beautiful as yours. That cognac in them gets me drunk instantly, that’s what I thought when I first saw them: that in your eyes is the softest fucking cognac ever made.”

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