I kept seeing his eyes.
The way his nose set in his face.
The curve of his lips, the corners of his mouth when he smiled.

It was as if I couldn't think of anything else but that particular shade of blue and the secrets they hid beneath them.

As if his smile could tell me more about him than his voice ever could.

I kept seeing his fingers, the way they connected to his hands.
And I thought of the things that could be said with them, the things that could be felt.

And I knew I was getting ahead of myself because I hadn't even spoken to him.
I knew that the hours left till I saw him again would feel like years.
But I knew I  would take those years, take them doubled and tripled just for another glimpse, another fleeting moment of his eyes meeting mine.