Encounters

My eyes fill with the beauty of the god like face on earth, standing right in front of me. His seemless perfect features sculpted on the olive toned canvas of his skin momentarily blurs my senses. No-one would expect this kind of vision slamming into you randomly in a super mart. I can't help letting out a audible gasp.

His skin looks so marvelous and otherworldly smooth, it almost hurts to control the urge of touching. His pointed nose, almost full, slightly pink lips, thick eyebrows, dark copper hair and a small mole on the right side of his chin just below his lower lip, classically put, takes my breath away. The intimidating smell only adds to the effect.

But all of these heavenly details seem plae compared to the pair of eyes staring at me with confusion right now. It's dark gray. But no shade of gray I have ever seen. Not in person, not in the movies or in any of the hundred books I have read. It's a radiating gray! The color around his pupil is condensed hazel. It spreads along with its radius, getting lighter and gray on the way. The lining of his Irish is finally a ring of deep gray. But even with this exquisite shade, his eyes hold more than just beauty. It holds a world of words. So very expressive yet exquisitely veiled.

"I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" A musical voice asks in a perfect British dialect. It's so soft but so controlled; I muse in the voice and forget that I have to reply.

"Can you hear me?" He says again. Both of his hands come forward to touch my arms as if he is doubtful I might faint. The idea isn't completely baseless but that gesture brings me back to earth.

I flinch away before his hands can touch me. His brows crease for a second, surprised by my reaction. Maybe if I wasn't such a broken device, I would have liked the feel of his hands on me.

"I am fine" I finally mutter. "Sorry I didn't notice you!" I feel my disregard for humans in general fit back in place. It's stupid of me to have reacted so awkwardly to this whole thing. Even if he is the most beautiful person of this Millennium, facts like that are not meant for someone like me.

I watch his lips slowly stretch around the edges, twitching itself into a beautiful smile.

"Are you sure you are fine?"

I try my best to not take that smile in account while replying, "Pretty much, yeah."

His smile takes a more teasing turn. "Forgive me but you look a little unstable to me." He twists the word in an almost insulting manner. Like he's talking to someone mentally unstable rather than just unstable. However, the crooked expression on his face looks so unusually intimidating, it's making harder for me to feel insulted.

"We didn't hit that hard," I manage, gathering all the scraps of irritation I could find. His hazel gray eyes lighten playfully with my words. Definitely amused by something I just did.

"I didn't imply that!" He says, still glowing. I'm suddenly excruciatingly self-conscious. I try to shake it off and focus on my wits in vain.

"What did I miss then?" I look around, anywhere but at him while speaking. It helps a little to concentrate on my brains when I'm not being burnt under his gaze.

But then I find myself focusing on that exquisite smell. It has a touch of lavender mixed with something I can't fathom.

"May I know your name?" He asks, completely dismissing the conversation in progress. Even so, his query feels oddly dictated, like he's asking something to a kindergarten kid. Since when did I start to care so much about underlying tones?

Instead I try to be formal. "It's Eileen and you?"

"That's irrelevant," he says, that beautiful smile never really leaving his lined lips.

I stifle a scoff. "May I at least know how mine was so relevant?" I at least sound a little annoyed now.

His face stretches into a grin, his dazzling white teeth flashed in between his perfect lips. It's somehow not just a devilishly sexy smile, that's a big part of it of course. But there's also a childish edge to it. I quickly shift my trail of thoughts, surprised by my own remarks.

Where on earth are these observations coming from? I don't remember looking at anyone with this much detail before.

I also take note that he's wearing a paper thin, plain white shirt. His wide, intricate chest almost visible behind the thin fabric. The curves of his muscles are perfectly pulled out, the tendons in his thick arms overwhelming the cloth. His interesting shirt is complemented by dark gray pants, matching his eyes and a weightful wrist watch. I vaguely notice a small art of ink just in the middle of his chest. And then I catch myself licking my lips. What on earth is wrong with me? Maybe it's something I ate in breakfast or perhaps just a natural adrenaline reaction to this unexpected treat to my eyes. Euther way, I am taken off guard by my own, very visual mind for the first time. That's the only part of my life I have any sort of control over. And the fact upsets me.

"I am sorry! I didn't mean to offend you," his voice makes me jerk a little. I got so drenched in my sadistic reveries I almost forgot he's standing right here, watching me intently now. The more I look at him, something about him strikes as familiar. I have also forgotten what I have said to him last. My head is spinning with all the chaos when Mark calls my name, making us both turn towards him. He swiftly walks up to us and his black eyes go wide when he takes in the man standing across from me.

"El what are you doing? Aren't you done yet?" I glance at the nameless man once more before answering Mark. He suddenly seems irritated, the smile gone from his face and replaced by a hard, measuring look.

"Yes!" I say, exhaling a small breath of relief. "I was just going to go look for you." I smile at Mark, returning my attention back to my reality.