He knew himself off by heart and could trace the lines of his face even in his sleep: floppy black hair, as normal as could be. A pale face with high cheekbones and well-sculpted features. And his eyes … his unnerving, almost frightening eyes…
He had always been daunted by them, even when he was young. No one had eyes like his, he knew. They seemed unreal – alien, somehow; a vivid green-gold with a tiny silver swirl at the edge of his irises. If you were to look closer, you would see the silver making a pattern, changing constantly according to the emotions he was experiencing at the time. And right now, a flame was dancing within them, like a gypsy – something that was out of his control.
