My Descriptive writing pieces

A first date

The man that enters can't be more than thirty-five or so, but walks with a cane. His right leg has the fluidity of youth but the other is jagged like he can't control it. I've seen eighty year olds walk better than that. From his complexion I can't help but imagine him in Greece donning a fresh white shirt and sable shorts, but in this Canadian winter he's layered up for the minus figures outside. His eyes scan the coffee shop and I wave in recognition. He raises his eyebrows in what I hope is a signal of pleasant surprise and I scurry to remove my clutter from the seat next to me. He sits with heavy awkwardness. As I take in his cheekbones, full lips and caramel skin I just want to eat him up. There's something so sexy in that vulnerable look of his. His voice is warm and rich; my heart beats faster than it's design specs should allow. Then it's silent for a moment- he's waiting for a response but I wasn't focusing on his words. As I blush his look of bafflement becomes a shy smile...