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His eyes are the color of the morning sky just before the sun fully settles into place. They’re the captured moment in between vibrant sunrises and the endless expanse of cobalt midday—the true calm before the storm. They’re the kind of blue that seems to stretch on forever, uninterrupted by clouds or towering terrain; the kind of blue one might associate with the crisp, chilly air of a day in autumn. Just looking into them feels refreshing, like a dip in cold water or breathing in clean mountain air that's suspiciously reminiscent of spearmint-scented breath. Light glimmers off his irises akin to the way the moon every so often insists on shining throughout the day, an indication of the free will he so carefully tries to conceal.