I don't know his name, but I've been watching him very very intently. There's something interesting about him. I mean, the way he carries himself across the room, his looks, his demeanor; he stands out. He's not even tall, just about my height, 5 foot and 7 inches, yet heavier.
He's wearing a worn-out cream printed sweat-shirt over a dark-blue untucked undergarment, heavily buckled stone-washed designer jeans, and a classic striped rubber shoes.
His hands are fidgeting restlessly inside his pockets.
He is Asian but I can't tell for sure if he's Korean or Japanese. He hardly fit the profile. In fact, his eyes are not even slanted nor chinked (boy I'm such a racist) the way most of them are. They are actually rather large, doe eyed shape setted and lucid like tot's marbles. His nose, thin, and decent. He got a shoulder-lenght very shiny hair. Black and unkempt. He is also sporting a three days old beards and whiskers that suit him just fine.
It occured to me that he was also oogling me rather unstealthily. His gaze were penetrating, swordlike and I could have been pierced, killed right there and then. But instead of averting, I fought him off with equal pert; lances and arrows. Like two knights atop their horses, we're unashamedly jousting each other. Err sizing. He then in turn, dis-armed with arresting smiles. And it broke the ice so to speak; and only then that I had the courage to ask him, half-jokingly, whether he is a bigamist or masochist.
He scratched his head and cringed, Excuse me?
To which I hurriedly pointed his shirt with B.M. prints on it, What does it mean...Bussiness Management?
He pinched his shirt, up his chest; thought of it carefully, literally tounge-in-cheek; looked me in the eyes and said, Blow Me!
I'd swear, my jaw dropped from that flagrant invitation!
tbc
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help yourself bitch.