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There were many things Eurydice loved about Orpheus.
She loved his music, of course, and the way that his songs had the power to bring back spring. She loved the way his hands molded into his lyre, fingertips curled over the strings like he was made for it.
But the one thing she loved most were his eyes.
Eyes that were a deep, warm hue and often open wide in a state of awe. The first time they met, she’d been startled by him and his wide-eyed stare, pupils dilated as they bored into her, and an expression on his face that looked like recognition. There in that fleeting moment, he looked at her with dread, fear, despair—but more importantly, adoration, reverence, and pure hope.
She’d felt it, too. She felt all of it and more.
Eurydice teased him once that he looked like a baby deer caught in a torchlight. Orpheus had just blushed and returned with a some deeply poetic turn of phrase that she kept locked away in her heart.
His eyes were just as entrancing as his words.
She remembered the first night they laid together, how despite in the darkness Orpheus’ eyes shone like the moon. He’d loved her deep and tenderly that night, and the way he gazed at her from above just proved that.
“How lucky I must be to be able to gaze upon you,” he’d said. “You are my world, Eurydice. Gods above, I have never loved anyone so deeply as I have loved you.”
She shuddered in his arms. “To be looked at by you is a blessing in itself. Your eyes are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid mine upon.” A wave of adoration coursed through her. “When I look into them, all I see is spring.”
And that was true. Of course, Eurydice still needed him to finish his song, bring the world back into tune, but for now just looking at him would suffice. She could look into his eyes and feel the first bloom of spring.
Which is why when his focus was directed toward his notebook and his lyre, she felt lost.
He was dedicated to his craft, that much was true, but now it was at the cost of Eurydice not seeing the warmth of his eyes for days.
The days stretched on until Eurydice couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t last another day without Orpheus looking at her, and she couldn’t last another day without food, so she took her chance to go to the Underworld.
It was worse, because she could just picture the look of betrayal on his face when he found out she’d left.
And no one in Hadestown could see her.
Everyone’s glassy eyes shook Eurydice to her core. There was no warmth nor comfort in them; each worker turned into some nameless cog in a machine.
Your eyes will look like that someday.
Gods, if he ever saw her again, she wouldn’t be the same. She wouldn’t be able to find home in his eyes.
As her memories slipped away, Eurydice could only recall his gentle gaze, soft like grass beneath her feet. She closed her eyes, and she could still see him. She couldn’t recall who he was, but she remembered how he looked at her, and through the haze taking over her mind, that was enough.
She was coaxed out by voice, and when her vision finally broke free of the fog, she was met with those same eyes she saw in her dreams.
It was Orpheus. And with one look into his beautiful, beautiful eyes, Eurydice felt sunlight all around her. Birds sang their songs and all the flowers bloomed.
He looked into her eyes and she knew that she was home again.
They could only leave on one condition. He could not turn around to look at her.
It didn’t sound bad at first. Eurydice had no doubt in him, though she couldn’t shake the dread that something wasn’t about to go the way they planned.
The first few moments of the journey were okay. Eurydice just focused on walking, because that’s what they promised each other.
But then the miles dragged on and she hadn’t seen his face in days.
How had she managed to live her whole life before meeting Orpheus? How had she been able to live without seeing those beautiful, pretty eyes shine? She missed the way they’d focus on his music, his hands over his lyre. She missed the way he’d gaze at her so reverently, as if she were one of the gods herself. Like she was his muse.
She needed to see his eyes again.
At some point, she began to beg.
Orpheus, please. Let me see your eyes one more time. Let me see them again, let me drown in them.
The walk was agony.
Her heart ached to be free of this cold. Eurydice just wished she could look into his eyes again.
She knew what it would mean if she saw them now. If he turned to look at her and she could see his eyes again, that would be the last time she ever did. But she didn’t care—she was cold, lonely, and tired and all she wanted was to lay in his arms and look at him forever.
Please. Just turn to look at me. Make me feel whole again.
In his stubborn determination, Orpheus kept his head straight, focus pinpointed on walking forward.
Let me see your eyes, my love. I need to know you’re there.
She could not voice her pleas, but she prayed and hoped to Fate that they would grant her this last wish.
Up ahead, light broke through. Eurydice knew then that it was spring in the world up above. It filled her with bliss, but she knew that she wouldn’t be complete until she gazed into Orpheus’ eyes once more.
Orpheus. Let me see you.
One more time.
Finally, terribly, at long last, Orpheus turned around and met her eyes. She stared at him, agape. He stared back. Those big doe eyes wide like they'd been when they met.
Warm. Shining like the sun.
Eurydice didn’t even fully register the shock of him turning to see her, or the fact that he just doomed her to an eternity down below. Her heart dropped when she saw him, both out of that devastation, but also with a swoop that felt just like the first time he laid eyes on her.
There were tears in his now.
Don’t cry, she wanted to say, you did everything right.
“It’s you,” he said.
Eurydice bloomed. “It’s me.” His eyes filled with relief, despair, blown wide at the sight of her standing in the sunlight. “Orpheus.”
Orpheus’ gaze held steadily, longingly at her. He looked at her in a way that looked like broken glass. “Eurydice.”
It didn’t matter anymore that Eurydice would never get to see a real springtime again.
As she slipped back into the Underworld, the memory of it in Orpheus’ eyes was enough.