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My enthusiasm was extinguished by her indifferent attitude.
But I still tried to maintain a smile: "I understand, you don't have to worry."
A flicker of struggle crossed her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I..." she said softly, "my situation is complicated, and I don't want to hurt you."
"I know," I replied, "but at least I expressed my feelings."
She fell silent.
I stood up, preparing to leave.
As I turned back, I saw her still sitting there, her gaze heavier than before.
I walked out of the café, feeling dejected.
"Xiaoyu!"
A familiar voice called out.
I looked up to see my good friend, Lin Xiao.
She was holding a cup of milk tea and looked at me with concern: "What's wrong? What happened?"
I forced a smile: "It's nothing."
"You're lying; you look so troubled," Lin Xiao frowned. "Tell me, what really happened?"
I sighed and told her everything in detail.
After listening, Lin Xiao patted my shoulder: "Don't give up so easily; things might still turn around."
I gave a bitter smile: "What kind of turnaround could there be?"
"For example, she might just need time to process everything," Lin Xiao said, "or she might have feelings for you too but is afraid to admit it."
"Really... could that be possible?" I looked at her in doubt.
"Of course," Lin Xiao said with a smile, "love is inherently unpredictable."
Lin Xiao and I sat on a bench by the roadside.
She handed me a cup of milk tea and encouraged me: "So, don't be discouraged; you must cheer up."
I took the milk tea and took a sip. The sweet taste spread in my mouth. My mood seemed to improve a little. Lin Xiao's words reignited my hope. I decided to try again.
I stood downstairs at Su Yingqing's house, holding the painting in my hand. It was a piece I had created, depicting a girl sitting on the grass, smiling as she looked into the distance. That was Su Yingqing. In my heart, she was the most beautiful scenery.
I took out my phone and dialed Su Yingqing's number. "Hello, it's me." My voice was firm and unwavering. "I want to see you; I have something very important to say."
On the other end of the line, Su Yingqing's voice sounded cold. "Is there still a need for us to meet?"
"There is," I answered without hesitation. "Even if you reject me, I won't regret telling you this."
She fell silent. After a long while, she slowly spoke, "Then come up."
I walked into Su Yingqing's room. She sat quietly by the window, looking at me with a complex expression. I handed her the painting, and a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes.
"What is this?" she asked softly.
"The you in the painting," I said gently. "In my heart, you have always been this kind of scenery."
She looked at me, a hint of wavering in her eyes. "Zhao Yuran, what... do you mean?"
"I like you, Su Yingqing," I confessed my feelings. "No matter what answer you give me, I won't regret telling you this."
Her gaze became profound, as if she were struggling and contemplating. I clenched my fists, my heart racing. I had done everything I could. The rest could only be left to fate. She finally spoke. There was a slight tremor in her voice: "Zhao Yuran, I..." "Zhao Yuran, I..." She lifted her head, looking at me with a complex expression, "I need to think." "Alright." I nodded gently, "I'll wait for your answer." I walked out of Su Yingqing's house, feeling complicated emotions.
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