Just By Looking At Him Novels & Stories

With that I get on the bus and see the man for the first time. I half expected him to look like a creep at the least but in front of me is a man that must have grown up beautifully. He’s clad in a suit that is tailored to his frame hence the perfection. His hair is ruffled from the brawl he just had. It’s when he clears his throat that I realize I had been staring longer than necessary. And what is the safe and warm feeling I get from only looking at him? I slip into one of the empty seats and glue my eyes to the window. It takes exactly a minute before he joins me.

I was shaking in my boots. He finally looks at me. He has a cold yet not menacing look on his face. The first thing I noticed was his forest green eyes, I’ve never seen a man as good looking as this man. Though all I’ve seen before today was men who looked like they’ve had ten too many beers. His sharp defined nose is the next thing you notice, after that my eyes fall on his lips.

For the first time since I met him, I turned my eyes to him to look at him, I mean to really look at him. Damn! This guy is built like a fucking god. He looks so cute, so fucking cute. He has this boyish cuteness that makes me want to smile right back at him, I had to force myself to shut my mouth so I would not drool as I stared at him. I couldn't help checking him out, looking at his dirty blonde curly hair that was combed to the back, giving him a classy and charismatic look with a touch of a playboy charm. He has this cold demeanor that tells you to keep off his path and stay the hell away from him.

I mumbled. I just caught myself staring at him while he was focusing on the fish. His eyes were focused on the fish that he wants. His brows were furrowed and he didn’t care even if his curly hair was almost covering his eyes. So, this is how he looks when he’s paying attention. I suddenly felt my own heartbeat racing so fast while looking at him. He looks quite far from his usual. He usually looks like a devil who doesn’t think about anything except killing people and hitting on every girl he sees. I never imagine him having such an expression like this.

I took the chance to check him out, and gods… he looked so fucking hot. His sleeve was rolled up, revealing his veins with each move he took. I didn’t think something as simple as that could be sexy, but that was until he ran his hands through his hair, slicking them back. A stand fell on his face, and I couldn’t stop my heart from racing. He looked like a freaking god, dressed in white, except nothing about this asshole was pure. Snap out of this. I stepped closer. The sound of my heels clicking got his attention. He lifted his head to look at me, and when our eyes met, something froze inside me.

And then I see him. He's standing at the altar in a black suit. His hair is dark. Really dark. His eyes are darker. He's beautiful but not in a way that makes sense. Not like the guys in movies. Beautiful like... dangerous. Like something you shouldn't be looking at for too long. His jaw is sharp. His face is all angles and hard lines. He has this look like he's bored. Like he's somewhere else and this is just something he has to get through. He watches me walk toward him without smiling.

The moment I saw him, it was like the world tilted. He strode across the courtyard, his white button-down crisp against his tan skin, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His dark brown hair was slightly tousled, like he’d been running his fingers through it too often. His sharp, chiseled jaw tensed, his expression unreadable, golden eyes locked straight ahead. Everywhere he went, people noticed. It was impossible not to. But unlike me, they weren’t drawn to him. My legs moved before I could stop them. I didn't know what was wrong with me

It caused me to notice his dark brown hair, he had green-blue eyes that would even look grey if you would not look intently, his face shape was somehow in between oval and square because of his jawline, and kissable lips. Damn, he looks perfect. And he is only wearing a white shirt, black Nike shorts and flip-flops. Usually, I would get uncomfortable having eye contact with someone for more than three seconds. But he just kept staring, and I didn't mind. I now realized why. "Are we okay?" He asks. He was waiting for an answer. And I don't know what answer I would give him. "Yeah, we're okay. No blood, no foul," I shrug.

I looked up—and he was there. Tall and lithe, impossibly good-looking in a plain suit. His blonde hair slicked back like he'd emerged directly from a goddamn picture magazine, and his crisp white dress shirt glued to him like it'd been fitted for the express purpose of weakening one. It wasn't his appearance that'd done it—though God knows it hadn't exactly set him back—when it all came down to it. It was the eyes. And the expression he wore? Not exactly doing much. No, he looked interested in something. Like a puzzle, attempting to work out how to crack me open.

Thank God, the coffee is not expensive. While waiting at the counter, I took a glance at him in the small room. He was sitting in the corner while staring outside as if he was deep in thought. He was like a male character in a drama with those shiny shimmering effects around him. He looks dramatic. But staring at his masculine build with a tan complexion, a pointed nose, and a newly shaved beard around his mouth, he indeed has a strong sex appeal, totally handsome. His overall appearance screams wealth, but his deep brown eyes show differently. It looks... Empty.