I’m struck silent as I stare at him. At the broadness of his shoulders, the taper of his waist. At the strong line of his jaw as tension ripples through it. The flare of anger in his vibrant, clover eyes. The freckles dotting his nose, spreading over his cheekbones. The piece of hair that’s dropped onto his forehead. At all the things I never noticed before, yet are in vivid technicolor now.
