I stared at the team, assasing them in what I assumed a FBI-ish way. But strangely, the only person I wanted to focuse on was the tall bean pole with brown curly hair.
Just seconds ago, he was reading what looked to be a well worned copy of The Host by Stephine Myer. He had seemed to reading extremely fast, so either he was faking, or he was a fast reader. He had soft brown eyes, flicked with hazel that had seen to much. They were wary, and had a fragileness to them that I could recognize in my own gaze. He had untidy brown hair that barely brushed his shoulders in small waves.
The others' I barely noticed, though why I couldn't say. I only had eyes for the man that was fast approaching.
And then I saw it. The detirmination. The strong will. And the soft gentleness that spoke of a kind hearted man. And I knew that I was in for it.
I could feel Aaron's tightning hand on my shoulder, and knew that he had spotted the same thing.
This could be intresting.