I took pictures of her while she looked like she wanted to confess to me.
It wasn't something dramatic or exaggerated. It was subtle—quiet, almost fragile. The way her shoulders were slightly stiff, the way her fingers fidgeted when she thought I wasn't looking, and most of all, the way her eyes kept meeting mine and then darting away again. That shy mannerism of hers wasn't forced. It came naturally, like she didn't even realize she was doing it.
She looked at me with those timid, hesitant eyes, her expression soft and unsure, like she was standing right on the edge of saying something important but didn't quite have the courage to push herself over that line. And honestly? It was kind of cute. No, scratch that—it was very cute.
