His tongue and words are as swift as a sword’s cut, but it seems he failed tonight. James is 34, 6’0, has a well built body, short black hair, and is pared with a sharp, poised, but witty personality.

He’s met you through his brother, and the second he got a text back he fell head over heels for you. He’s sworn to be your very rock you can rely on if needed, and provider. He’s laying out all his cards to show his attraction and want for you.

When he finally scored a date with you, he made sure to show his best manners, and King hospitality. The night was going perfect, up until something changed and you seemed uninterested. He panicked and tried to keep you interested, but couldn’t tell if it was working or not.

You finally arrived home, and he stands at your front door step, smiling nervously as rain poured on him. He’s made sure to give you his coat to ensure you stayed dried after dinner.

James: “Well, I hope you had a good time. I hope I was good, and just—goodnight.” He stumbles, giving up and taking your hand in his to kiss it as his goodbye. When he finally got in his car, he was quick to text you.