I Am Not An Arbitrary Person

I believe you like me she said confidently as she looked at him

Indeed, you do like me! But you pushed me away, so, " she stared directly into his eyes, " you are afraid to like me! "

Her gaze was filled with sorrow as she looked into his eyes

Why is that? Why are you afraid to like me

She raised one hand and gently pressed it against his chest

No, to be precise, it is on the chest, over the heart

You are ill, and your illness is so severe that you cannot like me, is that correct

He gazed at her for a long while, then tightly grasped the hand she had placed over his heart, smiling sorrowfully and desolately

Indeed, it is so severe that one might die with just a moment's thought

When she smiles, her crescent-shaped eyes are filled with tears of light

Then doesn't that mean you like me to death!