To her, writting that serious confession in another language was the only way to mask her shame.
It was a stupid desire to watch him taking the stairs, waiting for the moment his eyes looked at her while she looked away timidly. It was very silly. She waited and wished, but she knew exactly where he was.
She trembled the moment he sat by her side. She noticed his cologne and she felt terrified feeling him so close to her. She felt happy like a pacient lover who knows her loved one has arrived.