Hundreds, maybe thousands of hairs are all together in what looks like one uniform mass (God knows exactly how many hairs there are on your head). His feet both point forward, rocking back to lean against the door, knees locked. Blue jeans dark, but artificially worn – fairly new, no fraying cuffs. Not tight, hard to make out his figure. He has working hands. Thick fingers, veins bluish along the backs of his hands. Dark hair creeps up along his thumbs. Lines are deep around his joints. His nails trimmed down. His stubble is salt and pepper and dark hair peeks out from behind his unbuttoned collar.
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