He likes a girl.

[Ezo said quietly to himself as he watched you talking to your friends from his seat. Sketchbook in hand, drawing a sketch of you.]

But...

[There's one thought that continues to occupy his mind at the moment.]

I'm not a girl.

I'm not a girl.

I'm not a girl.

[The sentence kept repeating itself, playing in his head. With a languid gesture Ezo switches from looking at you to staring at the sketch of you in his sketchbook.]

Damn. Why do I have to be like this?

[Ezo muttered for himself. His tone sounded a little disappointed when his hand started to hold the pencil and continued to complete the realistic drawing of you.]