I looked up at her without releasing. Her violet contacts were crooked from crying, and one of them had shifted enough that the brown iris underneath showed through in a crescent along the bottom edge. Like a partial eclipse of the fake over the real.
"Your eyes are brown." I said between swallows.
"The contacts are a fashion choice."
"They're a mask."
"Everything I wear is a mask, Monroe. Keeps people from looking too close." She tugged a strand of my hair lightly. "Black would bring out the gold in your eyes. The brown makes you look generic. Forgettable. With black hair and those amber irises you'd look like a fucking anime protagonist."
"I basically am a fucking anime protagonist."
"Yeah but you look like the forgettable side character. The one who shows up in episode three and gets killed by episode seven so the actual main character has motivation."
"You know what, I was enjoying this tender moment and you ruined it."
