opia: the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable
third person following (y/n)
she had always thought that complete eye-contact was something special. eyes were the windows to the soul, people said.
and his soul was tired.
(y/n) had been going to this physical therapist for a while now. she had seriously injured her knee and was quite literally getting back on her feet again. she had a session every other day for around an hour. she saw him every time she went.
she recognized him somewhat. she sees him around the halls sometimes, and they share the same tired nod all third years have.
but this time, she had stared into his eyes for what seemed like forever. they were sitting across from each other in the small waiting room, and (y/n) couldn't seem to look away.
his eyes. oh, his eyes. they were beautiful. a sorta gold that you couldn't find just anywhere. they held a burning intensity she hadn't seen before. it was captivating and intoxicating. but they were tired. like he hadn't been sleeping properly. (y/n) felt vulnerable under his gaze, and she almost broke eye contact to look down. but she held her ground.
not only were his eyes stunning, but he just was in general. his hair fell onto his forehead in loose waves and had natural highlights that enhanced his beauty. his eyebrows were on fleek and his jawline sharp. he was gorgeous and (y/n) hoped he knew it.
finally, they broke eye contact when the physical therapist came in and called (y/n)'s name. she blinked before looking down at her feet as she stood up. she grabbed her crutches and threw the boy one last glance over her shoulder as she exited the room.
***
two days later, it happened again. in the waiting room, their eyes caught each other's again. (y/n) almost slipped and looked away. she was the tired one now.
her day had been rough. she was in a rush this morning, so she had put a little bit extra pressure on her knee, which caused it to ache just a little bit more than normal. then, in gym class, she had rejoined them after a month of sitting to the side and completing other assignments. but during a game of dodgeball, she had tripped and landed on her bad knee. she had struggled to not burst out crying, but now, under his intense stare, she felt like crying all over again.
it felt so invasive; his gaze. it held so many secrets, and it seemed like he was trying to uncover all of hers.
but he wasn't.
"are you okay?" he asked softly, suddenly. (y/n)'s eyes widened, and she finally broke eye contact. she looked down at her feet.
"yeah, i'm okay," she said quietly. "how are you?"
"i'm as okay as i can be in here," he joked lightly. she snorted. "you're (y/n), right?"
"yeah, i am. you're Chris, right? you play baseball." she looked up again and smiled at him.
their eyes caught again, but this time his eyes were calming. they were gentle and kind.
"yeah, i play baseball. though not that good anymore," he admitted, looking around the room.
"i'm sorry about your injury. you deserve to play baseball with no restrictions. everyone does."
"thank you," he mumbled quietly. "i haven't heard someone say that in a while."
"anytime, Chris. anytime."
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unedited
i really wanted to write about that feeling at the beginning. maybe i'll write about other ones. opia is considered a feeling you have but can't explain, as far as i've seen. i've never felt like that, but other people have. it's a bit different to write about, but i think i did okay.
comment down a request and i'll get on it! give a little description and i can make it happen!
see you soon!
goodbye!
