Creative Writing,  My Writing

Glasses

This, through the process of elimination and my own self confidence in my writing, ended it’s way up in this lovely little anthology full of other wonderful authors work from my time in the Creative Writing society at uni

They magnify his eyes. Those eyes that can’t be identified by one colour. They’re are mainly green or hazel, or amber. Flecked with blue and brown and orange if you get to look really closely. Any other day and it is easily ignored, but when those black rimmed glasses are on his face they are magnified. To the point of serious distraction.

They shift slightly down his nose every time he smiles. And it’s a real smile. The kind that reaches his eyes and makes the edges crinkle. The kind of smile that makes is nose crinkle and causes the frames to move slightly. Any other day and this kind of smile is heart warming. It’s carefree and sometimes even loving. It’s the kind of smile that shows he’s having a good time. It’s hard to focus on having a good time though when those glasses go slightly crooked and it’s all too obvious what happens next.

They stay slightly crooked and down on his nose for a short time. Usually because he can go a while without a shift bothering him. But when it does start to bother him, that’s always the worst. Sometimes it’s just a quick slide back up the nose disguised as going to run a hand through his hair. Tonight however its a slow adjustment. It’s the middle finger of his right hand pushing them up to the bridge of his nose. Then its the same hand grabbing around the lens and shifting them slightly so they centre again. It;s this action that magnifies everything more. His multi-coloured eyes, the tiny freckles that are dotted around just above his cheekbones, and his freakishly long eyelashes that they are way more appealing then they should be.

Once his hand returns to his side he smiles again, less broadly, and makes eye contact, and those stupid magnified eyes flash with a knowing look. His eyes look away again and there is a slight knowing smile on his face and then he’s smiling and his eyes are crinkling and the glasses are shifting and the process is being repeated.

And he knows what this is doing to his boyfriend.

Usually it isn’t a problem. Usually they aren’t in a room full of important, professional people. People who need to be impressed. and right now, more than ever, there is regret at forgetting to pick up his contact lenses on the way home from work that afternoon.

Because this, this repeated cycle all revolving around those glasses, well that is a kind of personal torture that shouldn’t have to be endured on tonight of all nights.

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