Twenty

The man kept staring and Olivia stared back. It was a game between them. A game of who would speak or move first. Olivia studied him. She estimated him to be about five feet eleven inches tall. Brutal scars were etched strategically across his face. As though whoever had chosen to beat him up had been deliberate about it.

From his rough exterior, he looked like a man with a mind of his own, who carried his stories. They were, it would seem, a source of strength and laurels of bravery. Even his biceps and muscles had strength etched on them.

His eyes were a different story altogether with so much intrigue and mystery. Like the type of person you would not mind telling your life story to, but you would walk away from the conversation feeling as though you learned nothing at all from your listener. He was not a handsome man with interesting features but he could not be classified as ugly either.

Something about him screamed allure, danger, and adventure all rolled in one. He looked li