In the corridor of the school, several people were talking near the window. He held his homework book and pretended to pass by, but his steps were so slow that he seemed to be stuck. The man was facing him sideways, his shoulders shaking with laughter as he listened to his companion's jokes. The sun fell on his raised chin, and even the down could be seen clearly. Occasionally he would interject a word, his voice not high, but it would be like a pebble thrown into his heart, causing ripples in circles. The companion patted the man's arm, and he tightened his fingertips; the man turned around to reach for the book on the window sill, his eyes following the figure behind him, until he was blocked by the passing classmates, then he hurriedly lowered his head and walked away quickly, but his ears were so hot that they could heat the homework book in his hand. It turns out that secret love is like this. Even if you just watch him talking to others, your heart will be like a pendulum blown by the wind, and it will lose its rhythm.
Intent: Expression of helplessness