“His eyes looked pale green this afternoon, the color of corroded copper.”

“I looked at the ornaments on the desk. Everything standard and all copper. A copper lamp, pen set and pencil tray, a glass and copper ashtray with a copper elephant on the rim, a copper letter opener, a copper thermos bottle on a copper tray, copper corners on the blotter holder. There was a spray of almost copper-colored sweet peas in a copper vase.It seemed like a lot of copper.”

“He feels it, too. His eyes widen. A lovely hazel. Green with flecks of brown and gold. The colors I love. The colors of the earth.”

“I concentrated on his eyes and his facial expression. Those said a lot about a person. I’d noticed that his eyes changed color based on his mood. Right now they were a true clear green, which meant he was happy. When his eyes turned cloudy with a mix of gray, he was angry. But my favorite shade was clear dark green, the color of his eyes when he’d just kissed me. Eyes only told part of the story. Drawing a portrait could be like looking at a person’s soul, when done right.”

“It was pleasant to drive back to the hotel in the late afternoon, above a sea as mysteriously colored as the agates and cornelians of childhood, green as green milk, blue as laundry water, wine dark.”

“And your green eyes are the color of the hills- the color of my home.' His voice dropped to a whisper. 'Aye, there's something about you, Lindsey Waters.”