Looking out the window, people at the skating rink are leaving. It is getting late, isn't it.
A thought suddenly pops into his head... huh that's weird. Why is this thought suddenly coming up, and why is there an urge to speak it.
Throughout the night there's been a lot of conversations going on, a lot of talking, a lot of understanding and heartfelt feelings.
It's beginning to turn into a word vomit, like something you can't stop any longer.
He looked down at the bowl of pomelo, at the can of beer that's been consumed.
Rationally, there's absolutely no reason why this needs to come up now. There is a plan for everything... there's a plan.
What is a plan?
Heart pounding now.
He looked up, looks at her, and said: "I still like you."