Plot twist

A stranger sits two chairs away.
He is talking to a friend, laughing at a joke I didn’t hear.

Once, he glanced at me,
And I was instantly transfixed by his deep amber eyes,
They hold a hint of golden tones that flash in the sunlight,
And a gentle comfort that shows through even an expression of jubilation
As I watch him converse, his auburn hair blows in the gentle breeze,
curling and waving with the gentle play of the sky.
The sun glints off the highlights of his hair in a soft glow.
His smile seems to light even the outdoors,
And his gaze, however brief, lit fire to my soul.

I watch him from not so far away, but I feel so invisible,
trapped under my own skin.
But even so as I see him run I can almost see plainly the strong, lithe body that must lye underneath his tantalizingly thin cotton garments.
To the experienced eye I trust, nearly chasing after him but knowing I’m having much too much fun in my own minds eye to consider ruining my newly acquired vision.
In my daydream I see us running together on the soft grass, laughing at the forgotten joke,
When one of us trips, and drags the other down in a fit of laughter.
We lay in the cool meadow, close, his arm wrapped around my waist.
But soon I am not content with only that and I run my palm from his shoulder to the middle of his stomach, and feeling his small intake of breath.
I slip my hand underneath his cotton shirt, and caress his warm muscles.
His eyes close for a moment and my hand slips around to his back, where I leave small claw marks, then I draw him close.
His embrace moves to meet my own and soon I feel that if we were ever separated I would die of cold.
My imploringly mischievous hand soon finds his belt-line and in our close embrace I feel his muscles tense a little.

But before we could get any further in my little fantasy I notice that he is actually walking towards me.

I freeze.

He reaches out his beautifully shaped hand and in the instant I can see his palm I know that he must be virtuous. I take his hand as he asks me to join the game
But I cant think of the game,
All I can think of is his firm, gentile grip and his supple soft skin warming my own, and how much I would enjoy reading his hands at length, then using that pretense to explore other parts of his primed body, drinking in his scent and reveling in the sheer power if his form.
My eyes must have given some of what I was thinking away because he narrowed his eyes playfully as he gave me a smile and said “or would you rather keep watching?”
My face suddenly got so hot I thought I must look like a cherry and as I tried to respond I found that my voice was quite lost
He pulled me up from my place easily and in the same motion hugged me gently, my arms at my sides.
He set me back down slowly and our eyes locked.
For that perfect moment I could swear he was thinking all the same things I was thinking.
But then he returned to his game with his friend and I was left by the tree to debate with myself weather or not I would try to make my daydream come true.