In the glittering theatre of celebrity, where every feature is scrutinized and every public declaration amplified, there’s a peculiar fascination with what figures deem their “sexiest” attribute. It’s a peek behind the curated persona, an intimate reveal that can often surprise, delight, or even redefine our perceptions. When LaRoyce Hawkins, known to millions as the earnest and principled Officer Kevin Atwater on Chicago P.D., spoke of his sexiest feature, it wasn’t a chiseled jawline, a commanding physique, or even the intense gaze that so often anchors his character. Instead, he pinpointed something both disarming and utterly captivating, a feature so magnetic that, once noticed, “it’s hard not to look at.”
The revelation cuts through the gritty, often somber world of intelligence and street patrol that Hawkins inhabits on screen. Officer Atwater is a man of duty, integrity, and often, immense emotional weight. His face frequently mirrors the harsh realities of Chicago’s streets—stern, focused, rarely breaking into the kind of expansive joy that would lighten the mood. So, when Hawkins’ answer became public, it offered a glimpse into the man beneath the badge, a man whose charm is rooted in something far more profound than superficial appeal.
Hawkins’ chosen feature is his smile. But this isn’t just any smile. It isn’t the practiced flash of teeth for a red carpet, nor the knowing smirk of a hero. Instead, it’s a full-face transformation, a rare constellation of warmth that lights up his usually guarded expression. When LaRoyce Hawkins genuinely smiles, it’s as if a sunbeam has pierced through a perpetually cloudy sky. The crinkle at the corners of his eyes speaks of genuine mirth, an internal light that spills outward, infectious and deeply human. His cheeks lift, his eyes soften, and the gravitas that defines his on-screen persona momentarily dissolves, replaced by an authentic, almost boyish delight.
This is why, as the interviewer rightly noted, “it’s hard not to look at.” It’s a moment of profound vulnerability and unexpected joy from a face often associated with seriousness. On Chicago P.D., Atwater’s smiles are precious and rare—moments of reprieve from tragedy, glimmers of hope amidst despair, or shared camaraderie with his unit. They land with more impact because of their scarcity, serving as visual exclamation points for character development, revealing the gentle giant, the compassionate soul beneath the formidable exterior. When Hawkins, as himself, identifies this particular expression as his sexiest, he’s not merely pointing to a physical attribute; he’s highlighting the essence of his own authentic charm.
Beyond the aesthetic, the magnetism of this particular smile lies in what it communicates. It speaks of an approachable wisdom, a kindness that underlies strength, and a deep well of character. It’s a smile that invites trust, disarms skepticism, and promises a shared moment of levity. In a world often obsessed with manufactured perfection, Hawkins’ revelation champions authenticity, presenting sexiness not as a static, flawless image, but as a dynamic expression of one’s true self. It’s the ability to radiate warmth, to connect on a human level, to project a light that cuts through the noise and draws others in.
Ultimately, LaRoyce Hawkins’ declaration serves as a poignant illustration of true magnetism. It reminds us that the features we find most attractive aren’t always the most conventional, nor are they necessarily the ones polished for public consumption. Often, they are the unexpected flashes of genuine emotion, the moments when a person’s inner light shines brightest. His smile is a beacon, a testament to the fact that vulnerability, authenticity, and a disarming warmth can be the most irresistibly captivating features of all—hard not to look at, and even harder to forget.
