Your hands touch your fringe. Your eyes don’t look at me. Anxious look of you. Your trembling eyes trying to hold the tears look like you lost something. It’s like a little child who can’t find parents in the middle of the park. I can see your corners of lips going down. Your face that tries not to cry makes my heart hurt. Your smile would mean that you want me to think you are fine. But your eyes are still moist like a small puddle in rainy day. If I get swayed here, would you burst into tears or would you never look at me?