Theodore Nott...

Every Saturday night, you'd see him on his expensive motorcycle, wearing a leather jacket and long dark jeans. You didn't know what was underneath the jacket, but you wanted to find out. This Saturday was different. You were in your car, heading home after meeting up with your friends and driving around the city. You stopped at a red light, blasting music on the car horn, and saw a motorcyclist revving his engine to attract your attention. You turned to look at him; he took off his helmet and began writing a number on the rearview mirror. You rolled down the window, not to grab the helmet or talk to him, but to admire how beautiful he looked with his curly hair tousled by the helmet and his green eyes focused on his writing. When he finished, he threw his helmet on your seat and left quickly as soon as the light turned yellow. You glanced at the helmet and saw his phone number on the rearview mirror, fogged up by the cold air.