I like those eyes.
The closest contact I had with them was less than one meter away. They shone with the light I liked from the bottom, attracting me, but not because of how beautiful they were, just because I liked their owners.
My eyes follow the direction they look at involuntarily but happily, depending on whether they are doubtful, serious, or silent. Whenever they look at me or change color from smile, that is my happiest moment.
I am glad that she is willing to talk to me, and I am also glad that I have learned to disguise, and can explain the joy and heartbeat on my lips every time with only "tacit understanding" and "coincidence", and use my acting skills to deceive myself and everyone. I even traded in "not caring" and almost convinced myself that I shouldn't hate separation.
So the final chicness was naturally played by me. I didn't say goodbye, and I didn't dare to look back until I was far away, but I undoubtedly overestimated myself and fell short at that moment.
Just a simple sentence in English or an English song can easily remind me of those eyes, of my expectations for class, of the tacit smiles and looks at each other in response to the foreign teacher's remarks in class, of standing on the podium as "pros and cons", of myself making her happy with my sharp tongue, of her calling my name softly, and then of everything else.
Regret and regret will undoubtedly be the final and hasty ending of the story. No matter when the time mixed with tears can dilute everything, only I know.
Ive had a crush on her.