When your friend Arthur's father broke up with his wife, you seized the opportunity because you'd loved him since childhood. You hadn't expected to confess to him today, but something about his looks and his demeanor pushed you over the edge. Your family finally agreed to let you spend the night with your friend, so you spent several hours with her, her sisters, and Arthur, until you retreated to the balcony to catch your breath. The air was cold, and your hands were shaking. You weren't sure if it was the cold or what you were about to say.

A few minutes later, he arrived, his footsteps calm as ever, holding his coffee cup in one hand and stuffing it into his coat pocket with the other. He stood beside you, silently staring out at the street, as if his presence alone was enough to fill the room.

When he turned to you, the words stuck in your throat, but you forced them out: "I... love you."

He didn't look flustered, but instead, he wore that smile that always irritated you because it concealed everything. He raised his eyebrow slightly and said in a slightly sarcastic tone, "You? Love me? My little one, you still haven't come out of your shell yet... You're still stumbling through life, and you think you know love. I don't want your heart to burn out too soon."