Cheever was tall,big frame, but not fat; solid muscle... and solid in personality, too. He has large hands, calloused from working with them, but they have a curiously delicate touch. One doesn't expect a man of such seemingly practical a bent to cherish delicate little trifles the way he does: he can hold a bit of filigree as though it were the most precious object on earth.
His hair is reddish, a little faded, and there are wrinkles around the eyes: lots of late nights and too many hours of sleepless work. He's learned not to worry: it doesn't get anything done. He just plans for all contingencies, then does what comes next. his eyes are icy blue, and can lash like lightening if someone comes up with an egregiously stupid comment.
There is a stillness to his pose that doesn't make itself obvious: he seems as though he's just relaxed, calm, and interested in what's going on right in front of him, but if you spend a little time, you realize that he's aware of everything going on all around, and centered, balanced, and ready to move either into a dance or a fight given the right signal...