Adrian

Adrian


He is neither here nor there in the way of attitude, emotions and looks. At a standard height for twenty something men, Adrian seemed larger than his frame. His hair, always neatly cropped about his mid-sized ears, is scattered across his forehead, brushing his collar, raven black with dark brown curling slightly through its midst. Sooty wavering brown eyes rested upon sharp cheek bones, and below eye brows that appeared a tad bit too void of masculinity in their perfection. If there was too be an imperfection in Adrian’s appearance, the guilt would have fallen to his slightly large nose that was gently crooked from a childhood break. Though this flaw would have only been notice by the keenest of eyes, it had never bothered Adrian or those that admired him from afar. To those who do inspect this flaw closer they will find slight indents on either side of the bridge that give way the unsuspected knowledge that this ‘tool head’ contains.
At the base of his sweeping cheekbones was a shy mouth that could, at times, appear unpleasant, at others it would break into the widest of grins. Upon this event intelligent creases arrive in his eyebrows and forehead. Naturally golden skin follows down the strong corded muscles in his neck spanning out the width of his shoulders and traveling down to his working hands. Around his throat sits a flat beaded silver chain, a contrast of sorts to the gleam of his skin.
An ardent intelligence shows through the slight black rimmed glasses he hesitantly sports. Those who believe they know him well have discovered the inconsistency by which he wears them. Just by glancing at his lanky tapering frame lazing in his chair, you can picture him working on the under belly of a car on a hoist, grease covering his deft hands.
He exudes strength like an iron rod, but also a loose and comfortable feeling- almost warmth. Knowing his grease monkey lifestyle is only scraping the surface of a jawbreaker candy; there’s so many layers hidden within- which one is the center? If you’d only get up the courage too lick the surface to get a closer view.
He does intimidate you, that much you have admitted, willingly or not, is a small detail. Whether it is in his quite eyes or the way he holds such a sense of prowess when he is lazing sleepily in his chair. He exudes a shy panther’s pose: lazy-graceful-elusive.
Just when you think you have an iota of knowledge on this shy character, he deftly paws something new into your brain. He reads the novels you live by, he takes certain risks that you have taken great efforts to eliminate, and he does so with a startling ease. He seems to thrive on knowledge, experience and a little grease.
You picture this: It’s not your typical deserted island set; he’s not you’re a-typical-chest-pounding-guy.
You’ve descended through the crystal Caribbean currents, splashing past schools of tropical fish, past a hole in the reef. As you stop to gaze through a pocket hole in the reef, you start as you see the ocean’s depths reflected back at you by the warm brown eyes that peer from beneath their goggles. Adrian. His soft feathery hair, an ink spot against the cobalt ocean hue, waves seductively at you with the current. It’s so soft, you don’t even realize your reaching out too touch his hair, until he breaks into his shy grin. His liquid brown eyes widen in surprise, you realize that you’ve woven your fingers through his hair and pulled a bit- just too make sure that he is as real as his hair feels to be. His grin broadens a bit more and that lazy expression takes over his face as he beckons to you too take his hand and follow him. You gaze down at his outstretched hand and then back to his beautiful eyes. They ask you to take the risk that you’ve been denying. You swallow you breath, shut your eyes and grasp his firm hand. You follow, to the depths of the vast ocean, to discover hidden treasure- to him…….