I first saw you on the train on my first day of work. You were already on the train when I boarded, sitting with one leg folded over your knee, balancing an iPad in your lap. You were reading intensely, head bowed over your device. I quickly sat in the seat opposite you. I glanced at you a few times but you never looked up from your iPad, so I took the opportunity to look at you in more detail.
I guessed you were a few years older than me but you couldn't have been older than 30. Your hair was almost as dark as the black case of your iPad with a slight wave around your ears. I wanted to reach across the gap between our seats and stroke a curl behind your ear out of your eyes to see if it was as soft as it looked. You were clean shaven and I wondered whether that was how you preferred it or whether you didn't have any stubble because of appearances at work. I let me gaze move away from admiring your face, your kissable lips, to your shoulders and chest. You were wearing a three-piece suit, the jacket was open revealing the trip waistcoat on top of a white shirt with a dark green tie. I wanted to know what your eyes looked like, what colour they were. But you were still completely focused on whatever you were reading.
I shifted out of the way when the person beside me rose from her seat to get off the train. You still didn't look up. I only had one more stop before I had to change trains and I really didn't want to get off the train before seeing your eyes. I cleared my throat, trying to subtly get your attention. You didn't even react. I frowned. Maybe I could nudge your foot by mistake…and apologise when you looked up. I straightened in my chair, my new trousers were stiff and tight. I'd bought them when I got this job. I'd never had an office job before and I guessed that my jeans weren't good enough to wear to a bank in London. My heart thudded against my rips and just as I was about to let my foot 'accidentally' slip against yours, the train came to a stop and I realised this was my stop. I cursed silently to myself and jumped up and off the train. I didn't even have a chance to glance back through the window, to see if you'd looked away from your iPad, before the train pulled away from the platform. I sighed to myself. It was silly, really, feeling so disappointed. I didn't know you, obviously. All you were at that moment was a gorgeous stranger in a perfectly fitted suit. But I [i]was[/i] disappointed.
I didn't see you that evening when I was travelling home. It had been crazy of me to even have a sliver of hope that you'd be on the commuter train out of the city. What were the chances that you'd be on the same train as me in the evening, anyway? I had no clue what time you finished work. I just had to hope that I'd see you again the following morning when you travelled into the city. It was a bit of an assumption that you did that journey everyday. But I wouldn't let myself think otherwise. I needed to believe that I had another chance at getting your attention and seeing your eyes. I didn't know why, but that felt like could be a life changing moment. If only you'd look away from your damned iPad.
The following morning I made sure to stand at the exact same spot on the platform so I'd be boarding the train at the same doors. It was very unlikely you'd even be there again let alone in the same seat. But then the train pulled up and the doors opened and there you were. You weren't on your iPad that time, but you had a file open across your lap which held your attention. I wondered whether you always spent your commute into the city working. I wondered if I would in the future once I had settled into my role a little more. I spent the next 20 minutes admiring you much like I had the day before. You were in a grey suit that day. You still had the waist coat and white shirt but this time your tie was a light pink. The outfit made your hair seem even darker though I hadn't thought that was possible. I wondered whether you were gay. True, I hadn't worked in an office for long, but even the higher ups in the bank didn't dress so stylishly. I hadn't seen anyone wear a three-piece suit. And I doubted any of them would dare wear a pink tie. I figured you were either gay and out or you were extremely confident in your heterosexuality. I hoped for the former.
I didn't see your eyes that day either. You were too engrossed in the paperwork you were reading. The following day you were back on your iPad again and the day after that, you were reading a newspaper. I was starting to think you were the type of person who constantly needs something to do. Whereas I was perfectly happy to have an hour commute where I didn't need to do anything or think about anything, I realised that maybe you didn't like not having anything to do.
I was disappointed at the weekend when I woke up and realised that I didn't have to get the train and I wouldn't be seeing you for another 2 days. I distracted myself by turning off my alarm and sleeping until mid-morning. I knew that if I stopped to think about it too much, I'd realise how creepy I was, completely obsessed with you after 1 week and I didn't know a single thing about you except you had 2 suits that you alternated and what seemed like an endless assortment of ties – I hadn't yet seen a repeat.
I was excited to go in to work on Monday, mainly because it meant I would see you in the morning on the train. But my bus was late. It was only 5 minutes or so behind schedule but still, I was starting to panic that I'd miss the train. Miss you. The train was at the platform when I ran into the station. I swiped through the barrier, ran to the train just as the doors closed. I saw you through the window and desperately pushed the button to open the doors but they didn't.
And then you raised your head and I saw the frown pull at your eyebrows. I held my breath as you turned towards me. Our eyes met just for a second before the train pulled away from the platform but that second was enough. Enough for me to finally learn the colour of your eyes, a dark blue. Enough for me to realise that, although you'd never looked away from your iPad or your files or your newspaper, you'd somehow known I was sitting opposite you. And you'd been disappointed that I wasn't there.
I was practically giddy when I got on the train that pulled into the station five minutes later.
I made sure to be at the station early the following morning. I was so early that I was there for the train before my regular train. I didn't get on it, though, obviously. I just waited. And then my train arrived and I stood by the doors, ready to board. I bit my lip, butterflies in my stomach. I felt like something was going to happen after the eye contact the day before.
When the doors hissed open, I stepped into the train and sat in my usual seat opposite you. I looked at you, like I always did, but you didn't have anything in your lap this time. No iPad, no files and no newspaper. I looked up from your empty hands and met your eyes. You'd been looking at me too. I held my breath as I got lost in the eyes that were a dark blue like a deep ocean. I wondered what they were like at an even closer proximity. "Made it this morning, then?" you asked and I blushed as I nodded. Your voice was deep and smooth and I wanted to hear more of it. I wanted to hear it everyday, even the weekends.
You know the rest of the story. I was so relieved that you didn't think I was weird or creepy for having stared at you for a week. It was so embarrassing that you'd been aware of it the entire time. Though, thinking back, I hadn't been subtle at all. I'd literally sat opposite you and looked at you. It was amazing that you hadn't changed seats.
We talked every morning after that Tuesday. Every morning for 2 weeks. And then you asked me out. Turns out you got on the train only one stop before mine and we lived pretty close. I still lived with my parents but you had your own flat. We ended up back there after we'd gone out for dinner. I'd been kind of worried that you'd expect something but I should have known better. You were a perfect gentleman. Even though you didn't wear your three-piece suit on our date, you still held yourself in a confident and together manner. You didn't need the suit to make you a gentleman, you just were one. We had coffee and chatted at your flat. It was the best first date I'd ever been on. Made better, I think, because even then I knew it was my last first date.
I loved it when, a few months later, we got the train together. When I stayed over at yours and we went into work together. We had to set the alarm extra early to factor in morning-sex time but that was okay. More than okay. And then, when I moved in, we went to work together every morning. I didn't sit opposite you then, I sat beside you, leaning subtly against you. I always loved touching you. I changed my hours so that we travelled home together too.
It was quick and sudden and possibly a bit ridiculous, but I fell in love with you on the train.