Secret Crush On You (English Translation)

6

English retrans by zosik39
indonesian co-translator : babibubego

editor : cosmicatmos

Co-translator : babibubego

6. VAN GOGH

-NUEA-

Thud!

The sound of an orange bag falling into the trash can from my own hand. The bespectacled, big-eyed boy, looked amazed at me . He tried to make it invisible, but it almost made me laugh. I've never thrown away gifts from other people, but this time I just wanted to test and it worked. Van Gogh was the one who gave the orange bag!

I called the bespectacled boy Van Gogh, because I didn't know his name. He always wears glasses and looks very geeky, I think he's from the photography faculty, because I always see him carrying a camera wherever he goes.

I don't remember where I met Van Gogh for the first time, until one day there was a football match, suddenly I saw a boy with glasses walking around taking photos beside the field. At first I couldn't remember where I met him, but I was sure that I've seen him before. From then on when I met Van Gogh, I would always remember him.

Van Gogh likes to take pictures, I often meet him in every corner of campus, he seems not interested in anything other than taking pictures. Sometimes I feel that the camera is facing me. I used to smile at the camera, but apart from pressing the shutter button, Van Gogh never spoke to me.

One day Van Gogh came to the canteen to eat with his friends, at first I didn't realize he would be sitting near my group, until Sky nudged my hand. When I turned to Van Gogh, the chair he was sitting on suddenly flipped over and he fell. I laughed but also felt sorry, when I was about to help him, his friends came and took him out of the canteen, he didn't even touch his rice. Since then Van Gogh has become one of my pleasures, whenever I am bored, by seeing his funny gestures, I always end up laughing.

One time Van Gogh is rebellious and the other, easily intimidated. Then sometimes startled or jumping like a frog with excitement.

My thoughts about Van Gogh kept changing, with his demeanor. Until I finally concluded that Van Gogh liked me, but he was like a shining star, because he didn't dare to approach me, never tried to purposely seek me out, or make any effort to get to know me. He didn't do that, all he did was shoot and shoot.

That day Van Gogh was bold, a mysterious orange bag as cute as he was, filled with oranges, greeting cards, dahlias, and tissues that looked like they had just been bought from the market was hanging on my car's mirror. It's the weirdest combination I've ever received.

I got back in my car and saw in the rearview mirror that Van Gogh and his friends were pushing each other. I feel sorry for the orange bag, what do the oranges Van Gogh gave taste like?