The Date

Evelyn

I observed him as he lifted the cup to his lips, his blue eyes sparkling from the get-go, his muscles subtly defined even beneath the fabric of his shirt. His skin appeared flawlessly smooth, his hands noticeably larger than mine, and his lips adorned with a natural pink hue. Sun-kissed locks of blonde hair cascaded in waves, framing a face boasting chiseled features and an undeniable rugged charm—this was far from what I had anticipated. Cameron was, without a doubt, drop-dead gorgeous and utterly breathtaking.

Seated across from me, every gesture he made seemed to flow with an effortless grace, as if he were following a dance choreographed by the gods themselves. The rich aroma of coffee enveloped the air around him, mingling with the subtle hint of his cologne, despite the appropriate distance between us.

He smelt good. Too fucking good.

While I struggled to maintain my composure in his presence, his demeanor was both relaxed and confident, entirely at ease in his own skin.