Sanders Sides Oneshots That I Might Make Into Books.

Eyes - Analogical

Warnings: Cringy, fluffy, lot's of emotions, my bad writing, kinda angsty, badly written ending

*Not gonna tell you yet.

~ Virgil's POV ~

Oh heck no. Virgil though as he peered over the banister. There were three... humans. In his territory. One in a blue polo was hiding behind the one in red, with the flashlight. As for the other, the one in black... He was just, standing there. Staring, searching, wondering.

If Virgil could just see his eyes! He had seen Red's as they were walking in the door. A syrupy gold, with black and green flecks. He was brave, haughty, and easy to see through. On the inside, he was scared of only two things. Darkness, and rejection. It would be easy to scare him off, Virgil just had to turn off the flashlight and provide an easy exit.

The one in blue would surely follow. His gray-ish blue eyes, partly hidden by his thick-framed glasses, so light they were almost clear, conveyed a great fear of this shadowed and possibly spider-infested mansion. Even more, of the great sadness that was on the brink of enveloping him. Virgil felt bad for the man, but it was not his duty to protect the humans. Just to get them away.

But the one in black, with the light brown hair and blue tie, would not reveal his eyes! He hid them, with his glasses and slight bangs. But then he looked up, a calculating expression on his face. And their eyes locked.

He should not have been able to see Virgil, but that was the least of his worries now. For the one in black's eyes were... different. Startlingly similar to Virgil's own .

One was a rich brown, that swirled, becoming darker and lighter. The chocolatey color seemed to be trying to push its way out, to surround the world and take in everything there was, but it was stopped by a deep black barrier ringing the iris.

The other, a passionate violet. Lavender ringed his pupil, at first it appeared pinkish, then bright purple. And ringing his iris was the most brilliant shade of navy Virgil had ever seen. The two colors seemed to be magnetically attracted to each other, and reached across the middle of his iris. But no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't seem to reach each other.

Then they did, and everything the heterochromic man was hiding came flooding the Virgil. It was a deep love that surrounded Virgil in warmth and gave off the smell of hot chocolate and a campfire. He wanted desperately to hold that feeling, to keep it safe and bask in its glory forever.

But it disappeared as quickly as it had come, as a wave of sadness crashed over and obliterated it. One that conveyed great loss and loneliness. It was reaching out for somebody, anybody, to recognize it. To hold it, and tell it that it was valid. It felt broken, like it wasn't supposed to be where it was. It felt ignored, and that made it want to curl up and cry.

Then, came the anger. It screamed until it was hoarse, and then it whispered hateful things. At others, for leaving him out and casting him aside. For not listening. But mostly, at himself. For feeling like this, for yelling, for feeling that sadness.

And then it broke down into fear. A fear that found Virgil's own, and twirled with it. That seemed to only want reassurance. It was fear or being abandoned, of being not needed, of being useless. It was afraid of all these emotions that were inside him, and how everyone he had every cherished would react.

And so the man kept it all locked up, and would never let them out. So as to not be crushed by them, and not be shunned by the ones he needed the most.

And over all of it, a name came to Virgil. Just one word, but he had been waiting to hear it his entire life.

Logan.