His hands. That's what got me.
The piercing blue eyes and square jaw would attract any woman.
The sharp wit and aloof, guarded nature, would attract any woman who'd been through some shit.
But the hands, those took some attention to notice. Days of hanging on his every word of lecture and every action in shop. Wondering if my intense and unyielding eye contact was the reason he stumbled over a word in his lesson or if it was just in my head. Days spent excited from my brain feeling turned back on and challenged. Nights spent debating what else in me was feeling turned back on.
On a quiet afternoon, as I watched him carefully test, press and pull each wire of a harness, the debate was settled.