Her beauty is … arresting, for the lack of a better term.
She has got long, red hair which beautifully frames her pale face, some freckles on her nose and cheekbones, which make her look cute and playful, while her defined jaw gives her something … sexy.
Her eyes are focused on the book laying in her lap, held by her petite fingers.
If he said he isn’t hypnotised by her beauty, he’d be lying.
Jonathan is completely caught up with her profile, so caught up, that he doesn’t even realise how a woman shakes her head about him in amusement.
His gaze is admiring, tracing down from her head curiously.
The cable of her headphones is almost like a path for his eyes, even though he respectfully avoids looking at her chest, even though the temptation not to is strong. He doesn’t need to eye it any closer to know that she has got perfectly shaped breasts, not extremely small, but not big either, perhaps a handful. Jonathan doesn’t know anything about bra sizes, so he doesn’t even try to guess hers. Bs, Cs, he never liked those in school anyway, so why would he give a damn about them in this case?
Only when he thinks this and the woman, that just shook her head about him nudges his side, he realises how much he failed in not inspecting the red-head’s breasts, an embarrassed blush showing up on his cheeks.
‚My apology‘, he whispers to no one specific, looking back down at his hands, which he started kneading.
Despite his whispered apology, his eyes soon travel up again, now starting at her feet. She is wearing sneakers, blue ones and her legs are bare until up to the blue jeans shorts she is wearing, along with a white blouse, under which it is visible that she doesn’t wear a bra.
Jonathan eyes her face, her glossy lips that form a little pout, her defined nose.
She seems like a fairy to him, like something from another world. Or like a spell which draws his gaze to her and doesn’t let go any more. Not that he complains.
When she now looks at him, a little smirk plays around her lips.
‚Maybe she actually is a fairytale, a witch that is slowly lulling me in‘, he thinks to himself, his head tilted and the smile he uses to respond awkward.
‚I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to s- ‚
Completely ignoring his attempt of talking to her, she gets up and takes her bag, carrying it in the same hand as her book to be able to hold herself up on the poles.
‚Hey!‘, now the pout is on his face while he gets up as well, making a gesture towards the strange beauty. The woman that nudged him earlier gives him a confused look but doesn’t interrupt him, instead she goes back to minding her own business, which is a game on her smartphone.
‚Can’t you at least tell me your name?‘, he walks up to the female frame and looks at her. She is funnily small next to him, but not too small. Her arms are feminine, but still a little bit muscular, showing that she isn’t the kind of girl doing nothing. Maybe she practises martial arts?
God damn, he wants to know, he feels the need to know everything about her.
He never felt that way, he doesn’t understand how she brings up those emotions he seemingly never felt before.
But he doesn’t complain.
Silently she turns her back towards him, her smile, that god damn jinxed smile, still bright and wide on her pretty face.
But as soon as she turns her back towards him, he doesn’t seem to be able to exactly memorise what she looked like.
And he doesn’t want to forget this face, that feels like a crime to him.
He takes his phone out, planning to take a picture. That wouldn’t hurt anyone after all, right? Even though he got taught, that it isn’t alright to take pictures of strangers. Without their consent. Secretly. But damn it, he needs to.
A few hours and two coffees later, he is sitting at a bench in front of the bank, a sigh escaping him. Work is exhausting, especially with the way everyone treats him. Like a freak or something like that, avoiding him and giving him weird looks. It’s not like he has done anything, not at all, he can not even remember any reason to why they should be like this.
‚Hey! Franc!‘, he calls out, ‚Pal! C’mere man, spending the break alone is awful.‘
He waves at his friend, who just gives him an apologetic smile before walking off, shaking his head and mumbling something.
Again Jonathan pouts a little, ‚Okay, pal! Later then?‘
Of course he doesn’t get an answer, but that he doesn’t mind when he turns his head, being greeted by the sight of red hair and this one special smile.
First he flinches at the sound of her voice. It’s raspy, but in no bad way, it’s fitting to the way she looks.
Now he manages to crack a smile and tilt his head, ‚Now that I’m seeing you, it got a little better.‘
‚Flirty dude, eh?‘, she now is grinning cheekily, her cheeks rosy.
‚I’m sorry‘, the man answers, his cheeks taking the colour of embarrassment, ‚I just – I saw you earlier in the train and – Bloody hell, did you not notice that weird man, me, staring at you and trying to talk to you?‘
Smiling softly, she shakes her head, ‚I am sorry, but I always am so focused on my book, I don’t realise that.‘
Again he nods a little. It’s weird how her face is so clear in front of his eyes, yet it seems like it isn’t there. But he refuses to let that thought strike him, instead he stubbornly wiggles a little closer to her, again ignoring how some people shake their heads at him.
‚Can I have your number?‘, he asks, his eyes shining a little with an almost childish hope and the weirdly intense fear, of her going.
They shine brighter, when she nods and takes her phone out.
He is so whipped for this stranger he feels like he used to know.