He sat there, as usual, with headphones on. And as usual, you kept a bit of an eye on him. As if who could blame you, you couldn't help but discreetly look at him every now and then, he was your type. How you couldn't stop looking at that soft looking hair, that color. And those sexy tattoos on his arms when he took off his leather jacket, oh my god. and all this is completed by his voice, low, hoarse, the kind he could do in asmr. You could only watch him secretly as he sat there.