The clock struck eleven, and the heavens opened. A relentless rain lashed against the asphalt, beneath a sky choked with obsidian clouds. Through the gloom, a sleek, black luxury sedan cut through the downpour. Its polished frame shimmered under the flickering streetlights, drawing the envious stares of the few pedestrians brave enough to face the storm. It was the kind of car that screamed power and unapproachable wealth.
Then, the screech of tires tore through the sound of the rain.
A figure had appeared out of the shadows, colliding violently with the front of the vehicle. The body slumped onto the wet road, motionless. Within seconds, a small crowd gathered, their voices rising in a chorus of anger. They hammered on the tinted windows, demanding the driver face the consequence of his recklessness.
The door swung open.
A man stepped out into the rain. He wore a bespoke charcoal suit that looked untouched by the chaos. Resting on the bridge of his nose were a pair of distinct yellow-tinted glasses. He tilted his head down, slowly sliding the glasses off to reveal his face.
"Please, forgive me," he began. His voice was a velvet caress, so soothing it could melt the coldest heart. Even the angriest men in the crowd felt their pulse settle.
He looked up, and the crowd gasped. His eyes were a startling, vibrant emerald—naturally green and hauntingly beautiful. His face possessed a sculpted, ethereal quality that made him look less like a driver and more like a dark angel.
"My eyes... they are green," he explained softly, his gaze shimmering with a strange sincerity. "The man was wearing green clothes as well. In the blur of the rain, he became invisible to me. I truly did not see him. But do not worry; I will ensure he receives the best care."
The anger in the air evaporated, replaced by hushed whispers. The women in the crowd found themselves blushing, entranced by his magnetic presence. Was he a model? A celebrity?
As he and a few bystanders lifted the unconscious victim into the plush leather interior of the luxury car, a man from the crowd grumbled, though his voice lacked its earlier bite. "If you're so blind, why do you wear those green lenses? Just to look like a hero?"
The driver paused, turning his emerald gaze toward the man. He offered a small, polite smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Pardon me, sir," he said gently. "But these are not lenses. My eyes are naturally this way. That is exactly why I must wear the yellow glasses—to see the world you see."
He slid the yellow frames back on, shielding those piercing green depths, and drove off into the night, leaving the crowd shivering in the rain.