Not pretty. Not drop-dead gorgeous like some guys. His ears and nose poke out a bit too much, and his chin ramps upwards. It's not that he isn't attractive, but I've come to notice the small things about him, features and all. I'm sure no one else even notices the disproportions, but I've spent so much time with him.
His hands, calloused and rough from adventures, always fold into his pockets as he lazily listens in class, somehow sucking in information. I've envied him for this, as I am not one who is academically inclined. Feet too, they fold under the desk, resting on each other, knees almost glued together. I'm almost positive his legs are numb after every class, because he'll stay an extra minute to put his things away after everyone has left. I'll normally tag along, standing by his desk and hurrying him up.
His eyes, something I'm still not used to looking into, are hazel, a nice blend with his tan skin. I can't say I look in them a lot, because normally I'm getting lost in the adventure we are currently sharing at that time. I do notice however, with every glance, that they darken to a roasted brown on the edges and near the pupil, a dark, army-green ring circling inside his iris. They are striking really, something I could in fact stare into a long while, but I never do.
Hair like sand sweeps to the side of his forehead, then swishes upward, combed with gel. It's getting darker, actually, probably a dark tan now, no longer a sandy-blond. His eyebrows are thick, each strand like wire, but spread from each other enough so that they aren't bushy.
It's strange the way he walks, like a giraffe. His neck extends with each step and his arms sweep the air around him. His strides are long, as are his legs, so I have to step twice as fast when we walk with each other. He's got a funny habit of scratching at his palm when he's feeling guilty, as if there's something there that's so annoying. His eyebrows furrow like twisted noodles as he concentrates so hard on the center of his hand.
I have begun to notice all these things throughout my life, and I've began to notice them more so. The way he'll smile when I brush past him, the way our shoulders will sometimes touch, when he'll say hello and goodbye to me, as if the others in the room are absent.
All these things about him. He is Him. The one I love.
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