Dark dense hair. Slimly smiling lips. Straight square jaw. Eyes that almost bore into the crevices of your soul. Again, dark and fine eyes. And holding within, a diamond.. for the sparkle. The long lines that mark his brows and the high bones that are his cheeks. A dense stubble that is there, but just. Rectangular, angular face. Amazingly chiselled and classically greek looking. Smiling, but waiting for the right moment to smile just some more…
Neck moulded by a potter: a greek potter. Shoulders that span out like the eagle’s wings. Strong and ribbed out after long hours of soaring the high skies. And a chest that opens out , like the vast spans of plains. Holding life within and breathing,rhythmically rising, and falling and raising some unholy ,aching desires. Stilling some minds. May be taking a few lives too.
God, how sinful.
I have not heard him speak. Nor touched him. Nor set eyes on him long enough to satiate my thirst . But just enough to set some thoughts on him. Afterall, i could only look at him through the slightly open doors of the training room. A few moments. A couple stolen glances . Damn. How unabashedly i can drool sometimes .
What eyecandy… so near yet so far. Can see, but cant touch. Nor hear, nor sense. What tragedy! Senecan maybe. Some times, beauty is just for the eyes only. That too for one glance only.