His form was pleasing. That much I could detect. Short brown hair, tanned skin, masculine face- attractive, yes.

He was well-built. Broad shoulders, toned chest, tall in stature- simply pleasing to look at.

I looked up from the book I was been engrossed in to take in the sight of him. I had met him before, but this was the first time I had the chance to study him, at least in form. My previous judgments of him were purely behavioral.

I could deduce without emotion that he was handsome, attractive, and blessed with a beautiful body.

He sat at the other end of the room, his attention on a book in his lap, and reality being filtered out by the tiny plastic buds in his ears. I could examine his without fear of being discovered. I wanted to avoid any misunderstandings.

To him, I was merely another coworker, her nose stuck in a book.

His chest was bare, exposing tanned skin with a soft matte finish, evenly colored apart from a splash of darker pigment on his right shoulder area, supposedly a stretched birthmark. His bright red shorts hung loosely on his hips, accentuating a lean stomach, as well as more of a positive hint at what lay below.

I let my eyes drift up to his face. His eyes were mere slits under his downcast focus and long eyelashes. His thin lips were thinner in concentration.

I allowed my eyes to linger, then I immediately snapped them back to the large print of my own book.

Was he good looking? Yes.

Was he appealing to me? In a sense, yes.

Was he worth my time? No.

I gave him one more quick glance before focusing on the pages, this time my eyes looking on in a disapproving fashion.

Appearances count for naught when one knows another’s true character.