Weeks passed since that day.
I didn't bother to talk to her.
Well.
She's not talking to me, too.
I don't know.
**
It's been weeks.
I can't bear to talk to him.
Why?
He vomited in front of me.
After eating his food.
I grasp that I'm not a skilled cook, but still.
I'm not offended nor insulted.
I'm shy.
He doesn't like it.
Yet he finished it.
