It's his hands. I looked at him. He's got a face that is possibly forgettable. A body that is possibly forgettable, too. His ears are way too large. It doesn't matter, though. I wanted to grab him and kiss him and I got the impression, as who he has described himself, that he would grind on me until I couldn't stand it any longer, and I want to know what it's like. I want to feel him. To hear his voice. The booming, deep voice of him. I want his big hands to run over me and to hear his deep voice tell me something that makes me both scared and alert. I wanted to know who he is. How he is. To feel him. To know him from the inside. I wanted to be back in middle school and hear Nine Inch Nails all over again. It played for me in my head as I looked him up and down and tried to suppress that feeling. He wasn't... someone to play with. The more I heard what he had to say about himself, the more I felt he was wrong for me. But, I really wanted to kiss him. To make out with him and grind on the couch. To cum to that. That is what I felt when I was around him. It was maddening to ignore it. But, I did. At least, while I needed to.
One day he told me how he was having an anxious time. That he had confessed his feelings to someone else. That it had NOT gone to his plan. I was startled, at least he's not gay, I guess. It actually... helped me stop wanting him. Or maybe it was proximity. Either way... his booming voice aside. His giant hands aside. His.... Well, it doesn't matter, though.
Someone else caught my eye and I couldn't help myself. I toggled. I toggled between three men. There was the large hands (and ears), Egon, and the man I actually felt. In the end, it was the large hands that got me. I couldn't help aligning with Egon after that. I wanted to draw him.
It reminded me of a time... over a year ago, when I wanted to draw someone else. A shorter man, to be sure, but a man of quality. Someone so beautiful it was hard to look at him. This man. He has a gentle quality about him. His steps are so small. I am not sure I if I'm annoyed by it or find it endearing. He acts like a man half his size. His body is nothing to ignore. Tall. Remarkably, so. He's proportionate. I want to know what his arms look like. It's cold outside. Wintertime, to my dismay. But, I can tell there's something I want to know under there.
I looked at him. I shouldn't have in that moment. But, I studied him instead. I looked at his cherry locks falling across his forehead. I looked at his cheeks, his chin. I looked at him as he parted his lips slightly, writing down something so slowly, I caught everything. He looked up at me then, between his lens' and I tried not to, but I melted. I wanted to draw him. In that moment. I took a mental note. I wanted to let my mind wander. To draw a comic. Something light hearted. Refreshing. The piece of cherry red hair falling and the look he gave me with his sea foam eyes through round frames. It was so kind and innocent. It made me recross my legs to the other side. I regained my control. I got back to my job and I didn't let it distract me again. Not until later.
I couldn't help but toggle between the three men. But he stood out, surprisingly. My mind decided to uncover what it had hidden and allowed me to remember what it was like. What I wanted.
I sat on the floor, snow falling around me. I put on my shoes. I glanced at his. Sitting on the floor and I wondered, could they fit inside? I couldn't say why I wanted to know. Or why I didn't find out. Either way, it was a feeling I had. I thought about the handful of times that I caught him watching me watching someone else. Studying the story telling. I looked at him out of curiosity, too. He locked eyes with me. I looked down. Away. I went back to his eyes, he was looking still. I let it go. I didn't know what to do with that.
It gave me the feeling. Like when I caught an eye in the reflection. Of his head hitting the hood. And then redirecting his eyes. It just... gave me hope. There's maybe hope out there. Maybe I'm not so unlovable as I am lead to believe so often. Maybe it's not a bad idea to reach out.
I saw him and I reached out. It's hard to say what any of it means. Maybe it's just a beginning of friendship and maybe I should just let it ride that way. Either way. Either way. Either way.
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