Click. Click. Click.
The faint rhythmic sound of his fingertips, tapping against the small black keys of his 13-inch laptop, somehow manages to echo through the upbeat and unfamiliar tunes blaring from the speakers in all four corners of this cafe.
Dressed in a plain black V-neck shirt and dark denim jeans that complement his black distressed pair of Toms, this 20-something fairly attractive young male sits alone and directly across the table from where I am. His thick dark eyebrows furrow as he stares intently at the small screen in front of him.
A few seconds later, his pale right hand carefully reaches for the white mug adjacent to his laptop on the right. He takes a quick sip of his drink, puts it back to where it was, and momentarily shifts his gaze and catches my eye.
Oh, sh*t. He just saw me staring at him.
I flinch and abruptly look away.
Can I get any more obvious?
I quickly steal a glance for a second and notice that his eyes are locked onto the screen once more. His pale, square-jawed face with no hint of facial hair no longer conveys a worried look. Instead, a sense of relief has washed over it. Perhaps even a sense of accomplishment?
Click. Click. Click.
His long fingers continue to dance around his keyboard in that same rhythmic pattern. He slowly shifts his gaze, yet again, and his eyes meet mine for the second time. This time, however, there’s a small, shy smile directed at me. And, I smile back.
