Who Is A Pretty Boy Then?
I was at the top of Bourke Street, nearly at Spring, attempting to make my way through the people and the outdoor tables on the foot path. The people and the tables were many, the spaces in between were limited.
A handsome Indian guy smiled, tilted his head, stepped sideways, and swept his hand in front of himself for me to walk through before him. He looked me in the eye and smiled, as I hesitated. His beautiful eyes twinkled, his lips parted gently to show a row of pearl white teeth. My breath was taken away just for a millisecond. I guessed he knew it. He had the self assured smile of a a man who was born handsome.
"After you."
I nodded, as if to say thank you, and stepped passed. I tried not to blush, or act coy, in the face of beauty.
That jawline, that bone structure, that skin. I won't tell you how he filled out his jeans, I guess you can imagine, but I had noticed. I dropped my eyes.
I looked up again as quickly. "Thank you."
"Oh no," he said. "It is my pleasure."
I looked back and he was still gazing at me. I nodded my head again and smiled. He smiled too.
A handsome Indian guy smiled, tilted his head, stepped sideways, and swept his hand in front of himself for me to walk through before him. He looked me in the eye and smiled, as I hesitated. His beautiful eyes twinkled, his lips parted gently to show a row of pearl white teeth. My breath was taken away just for a millisecond. I guessed he knew it. He had the self assured smile of a a man who was born handsome.
"After you."
I nodded, as if to say thank you, and stepped passed. I tried not to blush, or act coy, in the face of beauty.
That jawline, that bone structure, that skin. I won't tell you how he filled out his jeans, I guess you can imagine, but I had noticed. I dropped my eyes.
I looked up again as quickly. "Thank you."
"Oh no," he said. "It is my pleasure."
I looked back and he was still gazing at me. I nodded my head again and smiled. He smiled too.
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