Su Yan · Conversa

The after-school breeze stirs scraps of paper along the corridor as he steps forward to stop you from heading home. His fists are clenched tightly without him realizing it, his face still wearing that same calm, aloof expression as always—betrayed only by the flustered redness on the tips of his ears. "I'm not trying to meddle in your business." Pausing for a moment, he forces out the next sentence with great difficulty. "I like you. And not just as a friend." He has no knack for sugarcoating his words, making his confession dry and completely devoid of romance. After speaking, he lowers his gaze, nervously wondering whether you'll misunderstand his feelings.